THRILLING  ECHOES 


—  FROM  — 


THE  WILD  FRONTIER 

- :o: - 

INTERESTING  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 
OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

—  BY  — 

J.  S.  FLORY, 

Editor  of  the  “Home  Mirror,” 


—  AND  AUTHOR  OF  — 

“Western  Ramblings”,  “Lock  and  Key”,  or 
“Woman’s  Friend”,  etc.  etc. 


-:o:- 


CHICAGO  : 

RHODES  &  McCLURE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 
1893- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1893,  by 
By  J.  S.  Flory, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  atWashington. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


I  had  reasons  for  writing.  And  I  wrote.  The 
result  is  before  the  reader.  If  I  have  written  to 
some  purpose — well;  if  not — well. 


In  a  preface  an  apology  is  expected.  I  have 
none  to  make. 

The  world  is  flooded  with  fictitious  literature.  Am 
I  presuming  too  much  in  supposing  there  is  some 
room  for  “  truth  that  is  stranger  than  fiction  ?  ” 

As  an  explanation,  I  wish  to  say,  the  subject 
matter  relative  to  myself  in  the  following  pages,  was 
prepared  for  the  “Home  Mirror,”  for  that  reason  I 
use  the  pronouns  “we”  and  “us,”  instead  of  “I” 
and  “me.”  This  is  a  rule  admissible  with  editors. 

The  Author. 

Lordsburg,  Cal. 

(H 


PART  I. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Go  West. — Among  the  Indians. — The  Papoose.— Greeley. 
— Lynch  Law. — South  Platt  Valley. — Camping  out. 
— Selecting  Claims. — Indian  Skull  put  to  good 
use. — Denver;  Central  City. — Gold  Mines. . .  17 — 24 

CHAPTER  II. 

Buffalo  Hunting. — Our  first  Buffalo.  (Page)... 25 — 28 
CHAPTER  III. 

Massacred  by  the  Indians. — Taken  Captive. — Indians  re¬ 
pulsed.  (Page) . 29 — 3 1 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Among  the  Indians. — Dogs. — Ornaments. — Deer  Chase. 
A  Meal  with  Chiefs. — Trading. — Encounter  with  an 
Angry  Indian.  (Page) . 32 — 37 

CHAPTER  V. 

Ascent  of  Longs  Peak. — Camping  out. — Above  the 
Clouds. — Timber  line. — A  grand  Sunrise. — Missing 
the  trail. — Trout  Fishing. — A  storm.  (Page)  38 — 48 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Rambling  in  Wyoming. — Government  Fort. — Loosing 
the  Way. — A  Lady  Hunter. — Warm  Springs. — 
Election  Day. — Men  and  Women  Voting. — Hunting 
Antelope. — In  the  Mountains. — Looking  for  Bear. — 
Snow  Storm.  (Page) . 49 — 55 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Second  Trip  to  Wyoming. — A  Hunt  in  the  Mountains. — 
Killing  Elk. — Lost. — A  Painful  Accident. — Hunting 
for  Grizzly  Bear. — A  Kicking  Mule. — Killing  Deer. — 
Cow  Boys. — Camping  out. — A  Lost  Stranger. — 
Prospecting  for  Gold.  (Page) . 56 — 68 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Editorial  Excursion. — Idaho  Springs. — A  Reception  by 
Gov.  Bryan. — Georgetown. — Grand  Canon  of  the 
Arkansas.  — Leadville.  — Excitement.  — Lynch  Law 
Threatened. — Manitou. — Reception  by  Pres.  Grant. 
— Moonlight  Drive  in  the  Garden  of  the  Gods. — 
Colorado  Springs.  (Page) . 69 — 76 

PART  II. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Life  among  the  Wilds  of  the  West. — Indians  Dressing 
Pelts. — Narrow  Escape  from  Poisening. — Narrow 


Escape  from  Murderous  Indians. — Queer  Creden¬ 
tials.  (Page) . 77 — 125 

CHAPTER  II. 


Hunting  Buffalo. — Hand  to  Hand  Encounter  with  a 
Crippled  Monster. — Running  for  Life. — Snakes. — 
Killing  Buffalo. — A  Mad  Wolf.  (Page) . .  126 — 1 57 


PART  III. 


My  Own  Captivity. — Surprise  and  Massacre. — Carried 
off.  —  Escape.  —  Recaptured.  — Indian  Life. — War 
Dances. — Sentenced  to  Die  at  the  Stake. — Saved. — 
Miraculous  Escape.  (Page) . 158 — 188 

PART  IV. 

Miscellaneous  Sketches.  How  a  Fortune  Hunter  Became 
a  Tramp. — Saved  from  Captivity. — The  Thornburg 
Fight. — Terrible  Massacre  of  Indians. — A  Narrow 
Escape. — A  Thrilling  Adventure. — Our  Last  Buffalo. 
— The  Hunter  and  Old  Grizzly. — The  Belle  of  the 
Mountains.  — Married  by  Lightning. —  Capturing 
Wild  Horses. — A  Fight  with  Indians. — A  Dizzy 
Climb. — Life  on  a  Sheep  Ranch. — An  Author  in 
Close  Quarters. — In  the  Saddle. — An  Indian  Speech. 
— An  Indian  Legend.  (Page) . 1 89 — 248 


THRILLING  ECHOES 


FROM  THE  WILD  FRONTIER. 

PART  I. 

CHAPTER  I. 

We  do  not  know  that  we  can  give  a  more  interesting 
account  of  true  life  on  the  frontier  than  to  give  our  own 
experience,  with  now  and  then  the  experience  of  others, 
the  facts  of  which  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  are- 
true. 

Whilst  living  in  our  quiet  home  and  accustomed  to 
the  airy  breezes  from  the  blue  topped  Alleghenies,  we 
were  seized  with  the  impulse  to  ‘‘Go  west,”  and  west 
we  went;  first  on  a  prospecting  tour.  At  Cincinnati  we 
met  with  an  agent  of  the  U.  P.  R.  R. ,  who  had  cour¬ 
teously  extended  to  us  cheap  transportation.  In  com¬ 
pany  with  said  agent  and  others  who  were  to  be  our 
companions  in  travel,  we  arrived  at  Omaha,  Nebraska, 
June  27th,  1873. 

Our  party  consisted  of  the  said  agent,  an  agent  of  the 
Illinois  Central  R.  R. ,  a  Dr.  B.  of  Md. ,  Mr.  H.  of  Va. , 
one  of  those  sturdy  old  pioneer  farmers  of  Ind. ,  and 
myself. 

We  found  much  at  Omaha  to  engage  our  attention, 
but  the  great  “west”  far  beyond  was  where  our  hopes 
were  set  for.  On  the  morning  of  the  28th,  as  usual,  all 
was  bustle  and  confusion  at  the  great  union  depot;  men, 

(17) 


i8 


AMONG  THE  INDIANS. 


women  and  children  of  different  nationality,  all  mingled 
together  in  one  living,  moving  mass,  intent  on  going 
somewhere.  The  puffing,  trembling  iron  horse  seemed 
eager  to  be  off.  The  last  trunk  finally  was  put  aboard 
and  the  order  “all  aboard”  given,  then  the  long,  crowded 
train  was  off  for  the  wide  rolling  plains  beyond.  The 
wide  extended  area  of  rolling  lands  that  met  our  view 
was  grand  to  behold;  here  and  there  a  farm  house  was 
to  be  seen  looking  like  a  ship  far  out  on  the  broad  ocean; 
green  and  waving  fields  of  grain  looked  like  pleasant 
oases  on  the  desert  waste.  A  great  country  here  spread 
wide  her  arms  to  welcome  the  sturdy  sons  of  toil.  Our 
"first  stopping  place  was  Grand  Island,  Neb.;  being  Sun¬ 
day  we  attended  divine  service  and  Sunday  school,  had 
a  favorable  opportunity  to  compare  society,  which  we 
found  in  appearance  similiar  to  what  we  met  in  the  east, 
also  walked  out  to  interview  a  body  of  Indians  who 
were  camped  near  the  town.  During  the  night  previous 
a  bolt  of  lightning  had  killed  three  head  of  cattle  in 
town.  Those  Indians  had  found  out  what  had  occurred 
and  with  eager  busy  hands  they  were  utilizing  the  car¬ 
casses.  Nothing  was  suffered  to  go  to  waste;  even  the  in¬ 
testines  were  carefully  strung  up  to  dry  for  food  in  the 
future.  The  steak  and  every  part  that  was  possible  to 
be  cut  in  thin  strips  was  so  treated  and  strung  in  the  sun 
or  over  the  fire  to  dry,  making  what  is  called  “jerked 
beef”.  One  old  Indian  was  sitting  squarely  upon  the 
ground — tailor  fashion — and  with  a  large  knife  was 
splitting  a  large  piece  of  steak  using  his  uncovered  thigh 
for  it  to  rest  upon  during  the  process  of  “jerking.” 
Near  by  was  a  squaw  busily  engaged  hanging  the  thin 


KNOCKING  OFF  THE  COIN. 


19 


strips  of  beef  over  a  fire.  Our  curiosity  was  somewhat 
excited  by  what  seemed  to  be  a  bundle  of  rags  lashed 
with  ropes  to  a  pile  of  boards  and  sitting  at  an  angle  of 
about  forty-five  degrees  against  the  fence.  One  of  our 
party  ventured  to  remark  there  was  something  breathing 
within  the  novel  looking  bundle.  The  squaw  noting  our 
curiosity  came  forward  and  on  removing  an  outer  cover¬ 
ing  exposed  to  our  wondering  view  a  round,  plump  faced 
“papoose”  (Indian  baby)  sleeping  as  sweetly — to  all 
appearance — as  ever  slept  an  infant  in  its  mother’s  arms. 
One  of  the  party  rewarded  the  mother  for  her  generosity 
by  giving  her  a  piece  of  money  which  she  received  with 
a  broad  grin  and  guttural  ‘  ‘thank  you.  ”  Later  in  the 
day  some  of  the  party  had  the  Indians  try  their  skill 
with  bow  and  arrow  having  them,  at  a  distance  of  fifty 
paces,  knock  small  coins  from  a  stick  placed  in  the 
ground,  the  coin  inserted  edgewise  in  the  top  end,  the 
one  striking  the  coin  and  knocking  it  from  the  stick  being 
entitled  to  it.  It  is  surprising  with  what  accuracy  they 
can  thus  hit  a  small  coin. 

Leaving  Grand  Island  at  night  we  went  farther  west 
to  Gibbon,  where  the  next  day  we  hired  conveyances 
and  went  out  about  ten  miles  northwest,  where  we  found 
a  beautiful  section  of  country  yet  open  for  entry. 
Returning  at  night  we  again  boarded  the  train  arriving 
at  Cheyenne,  Wyoming  Territory,  on  the  morning  of 
June  2nd,  tarried  long  enough  to  get  to  see  a  portion  of, 
at  that  time,  one  of  the  wickedest  cities,  probably  to  be 
found  anywhere.  Here  we  changed  cars  and  went  due 
south  for  Greeley,  Col.  Traveling  for  many  miles  over 
the  barren  plains  and  emerging  suddenly  in  to  a  region 


20 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  TOWN  OF  GREELEY. 


of  green  fields,  running  streams  and  on  every  hand  the 
signs  of  busy  prosperity,  was  like  awaking  from  a  dream 
— like  passing  from  a  desert  into  a  paradise.  Water 
and  well  applied  industry  had  made  the  change.  Found 
Greeley  a  beautiful  thriving  town,  four  years  of  age. 
P.  T.  Barnum,  Horace  Greeley  and  other  men  of  note, 
owned  property  in  the  town  and  were  helping  build  up 
the  place.  This  town  has  solved  the  problem  that  a 
community,  based  on  strictly  temperate  principles,  can 
succeed  and  prosper.  Apply  the  same  rules  to  every 
city,  town  and  neighborhood  in  the  Union  that  Greeley 
has  maintained  for  eight  years  past  and  the  evil  of  in¬ 
temperance  will  be  banished  from  the  land. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  beautiful  town  of  Greeley  we 
were  met  by  some  friends  who  conveyed  us  to  the  town 
of  Evans.  After  dinner  we  took  a  stroll  through  the 
town;  the  fine  gardens  and  manner  of  irrigating  them 
attracted  our  attention.  A  large  canal  conveyed  the 
water  around  the  town  and  surrounding  farms.  Latteral 
ditches  from  this  main  canal  conducted  the  water  in 
beautiful  streams  along  each  side  the  streets  along  which 
lines  of  beautiful  trees  were  growing.  From  these  ditches 
into  everybody’s  yard  or  garden  the  water  could  be  turned 
as  needed.  The  water  flowed  between  the  rows  of  vege¬ 
tables  or  spread  over  the  plats  of  ground  readily,  and 
when  sufficient  moisture  was  had  the  water  was  turned 
off.  We  at  once  discovered  this  matter  of  irrigation 
was  much  more  simple  and  available  even  for  large  farms 
than  we  had  any  idea  of. 

Near  by  the  town  we  were  shown  a  large  cotton  wood 
tree,  that  a  few  years  previous  had  born  a  sad  fruit.  A 


LYNCHING  OF  A  MURDERER.  21 

young  man  had  left  his  home  in  the  states  and  in  his  ram¬ 
bles  had  found  his  way  thither.  Like  too  many  young 
men  he  had  learned  to  indulge  in  intoxicating  beverages. 
While  under  its  influence  at  the  hotel  where  he  was 
boarding,  while  at  the  dinner  table,  he  insulted  one  of 
the  female  waiters,  she  threw  a  glass  of  water  in  his  face, 
in  his  rage  he  sprang  from  his  chair  and  drew  his  re¬ 
volver  and  killed  the  landlord — a  man  much  respected. 
He  attempted  to  escape  but  was  seized  by  a  mob  and 
preparations  at  once  made  to  hang  him.  All  his  en¬ 
treaties  for  his  life  were  in  vain.  Time  was  given  him 
to  write  a  letter  to  his  mother  in  which  he  stated  the  de¬ 
mon  rum  had  brought  him  to  this  sad  end.  He  was  placed 
upon  a  mule  which  was  led  under  the  said  tree,  a  rope 
was  thrown  over  a  large  limb,  one  end  fastened  around 
his  neck,  the  mule  was  led  from  under  him  and  in  a 
short  time  his  spirit  was  gone  from  his  mortal  body. 
What  a  sad  warning  for  every  young  man  who  dares  to 
tamper  with  strong  drink. 

All  being  in  readiness  we  set  out  by  private  convey¬ 
ance  for  our  journey  down  the  valley  of  the  South 
Platte  river.  About  sundown  we  arrived  at  a  small 
town  by  the  name  of  Green  city.  The  people  of  the 
town  were  mostly  from  the  southern  states;  we  were 
well  entertained  and  on  the  next  day  continued  our 
journey.  At  noon  we  arrived  at  a  dairy  ‘  ‘ranch”  presided 
over  by  a  couple  of  men.  We  found  one  of  the  men 
churning  butter, — about  twenty-five  pounds  were  made 
daily.  About  two  gallons  and  a  half  of  butter  milk  was 
quite  an  addition  to  our  lunch.  Continuing  our  journey 
through  a  wild  and  uninhabited  country,  at  night  we 


22 


CAMPING  OUT. 


camped  on  an  elevation  near  the  river.  The  horses 
were  “picketed”  out,  our  camp  fire  started  and  supper 
prepared  all  in  regular  pioneer  camping-out  style.  When 
bed  time  came  we  spread  our  blankets  upon  the  ground. 
Myself  and  bedfellow  selected  the  sandy  road  bed  as  it 
was  softer  than  the  uneven  grassy  plain.  In  this  climate 
while  camping  out  no  one  cares  to  sleep  under  cover. 
As  this  was  our  first  night  camping  out  we  took  in  our 
situation  as  one  quite  novel.  We  lay  for  some  time 
looking  up  at  the  bright  twinkling  stars,  wondering 
whether  they  all  were  worlds  inhabited  like  ours. 
Thoughts  of  dear  ones  far  away  and  of  the  noisy  tumults 
that  doubtless  was  then  transpiring  in  many  places  on 
this  evening  of  our  National  Independence  day — the 
fourth  of  July.  Sweet  sleep  finally  put  an  end  to  our 
reveries;  however,  we  were  not  left  long  in  uninter¬ 
rupted  slumber.  We  were  awakened  by  some  one  yell¬ 
ing  out  “get  up  out  of  the  road  a  wagon  is  coming”.  We 
did  get  up  and  noticed  a  wagon  with  two  yoke  of  cattle 
to  it  coming  near  us.  Our  sudden  uprising  and  ghost  like 
appearance  so  scared  the  oxen  that  they  shyed  off  on  a 
run.  The  driver  did  some  terrible  swearing  and  some  of 
our  jolly  wits  did  some  hearty  laughing.  We  again 
nestled  down  in  our  beds  and  lay  undisturbed  until  the 
bright  morning  appeared.  As  our  city  friends  were 
used  to  late  hours  for  rising  we  got  up  and  taking  a 
rifle  from  one  of  the  wagons  took  a  stroll  far  out  on  the 
rolling  plains.  While  going  up  a  ravine  we  noticed  an 
antelope  quietly  feeding  at  a  distance,  but  before  we 
could  get  as  near  as  we  wanted,  it  discovered  us  and  went 
off  on  a  swift  run.  On  our  return  to  camp  we  found 


CROSSING  THE  RIVER. 


23 


breakfast  ready  and  soon  we  were  off  again  for  our 
“down  the  river”  destination,  which  we  reached  about 
noon.  We  intended  to  view  the  land  across  the  river. 
The  bed  of  the  Platte  was  so  treacherous — in  many 
places  quicksand — that  our  drivers  would  not  venture  to 
cross.  So  it  was  agreed  that  after  dinner  we  would 
wade  the  river.  Our  Indiana  friend,  however,  would 
not  venture  with  us.  Having  reached  the  bank  of  the 
river  we  divested  ourselves  of  our  clothing  which  we 
carried  in  our  hands  and  commenced  the  crossing, — the 
river  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  Before  we  got 
across  we  reached  deep  water  and  had  to  ‘  ‘back  out”  and 
try  another  course.  Finally  we  reached  the  opposite  bank 
and  entered  upon  a  beautiful  scope  of  bottom  land. 
Each  one  of  the  party  selected  a  claim  of  160  acres  of 
land  and  in  the  evening  returned  to  our  camp  which  was 
by  a  claim  “shanty,”  but  the  owner  was  not  at  home; 
however,  according  to  the  usage  of  the  country  it  was  all 
right  to  take  possession  of  the  premises  while  we  re¬ 
mained.  One  thing  that  might  be  worthy  of  mention 
we  noticed  in  this  cabin,  and  that  was  the  top  part  of  an 
Indian  skull  that  was  used  by  the  party  who  lived  there 
to  keep  his  salt  in.  Afterwards  we  learned  the  Sioux 
and  Ute  Indians  had  fought  a  severe  battle  not  far  off 
and  Indian  skulls  were  plenty.  Since  then  we  have 
seen  them  lying  around  in  the  door  yards,  and  kept  as 
curosities  in  some  public  houses. 

We  spent  the  next  day  until  noon,  looking  around  and 
then  started  on  our  return  trip — we  had  gone  down  the 
river  about  85  miles.  Thousands  of  cattle  were  seen 
grazing  in  this  great  valley,  and  finer  and  fatter  cattle 


24 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 


we  never  have  seen  anywhere.  Our  return  trip  was  similiar 
to  our  going  down.  One  of  the  party  killed  a  prairie 
dog  and  our  Indianapolis  friend  captured  a  mocking  bird 
which  he  carried  back  with  him.  It  was  the  wrong 
season  of  the  year  to  find  buffalo  or  Indians  in  the 
valley,  hence  we  had  no  such  pleasure  as  getting  an  in¬ 
terview  with  them. 

On  our  arrival  at  Evans  we  got  aboard  the  train  for 
the  great  city  of  Denver.  On  the  9th  of  July  our  party 
was  offered  a  free  ride  to  the  mountains  and  return.  It 
is  needless  to  say  we  accepted  the  offer.  At  Golden,  a 
beautiful,  thriving  town,  surrounded  by  the  foot  hills, 
we  took  passage  on  the  narrow  gauge  railroad  up  Clear 
Creek  canon.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the  grandeur  and 
wonders  of  this  remarkable  canon?  One  man  who  was 
aboard  the  train  was  so  fascinated  with  the  scenery  and 
awe  stricken  by  the  towering,  overhanging  cliffs,  that 
he  made  use  of  all  the  adjectives  he  could  think  of  in 
Webster’s  unabridged  and  then  seemed  to  sigh  that  there 
was  no  other  vocabulary  from  whence  he  might  derive 
terms  to  express  his  admiration.  In  due  time  we  ar¬ 
rived  at  Black  Hawk  and  Central  City,  which  are  hem¬ 
med  in  by  high  mountains  and  on  every  side  are  visible 
the  rich  gold  and  silver  mines,  out  of  which  millions 
have  been  taken.  The  Teller  hotel  will  favorably  com¬ 
pare  with  first  class  houses  in  New  York  city.  We 
thought  one  dollar  for  our  dinner  pretty  high;  however, 
as  it  was  our  only  expense  for  the  day  we  had  no  need  to 
grumble.  We  returned  to  Denver  in  the  evening,  and 
on  the  next  day  set  out  homeward  bound  where  we  ar¬ 
rived  July  1 6th. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OUR  FIRST  BUFFALO  HUNT. 

Having  arrived  with  my  family  at  the  beautiful  town 
of  Greeley,  in  Well  county  and  after  seeing  them  com¬ 
fortably  situated,  and  having  opportunity  to  go  with  a 
friend  near  a  hundred  miles  down  the  South  Platte  river, 
and  being  informed  the  buffalo  were  plenty  now  in  the 
valley,  we  set  out  buoyant  with  hope  that  we  should  not 
only  get  to  see  some  of  those  big  beasts  of  the  plains, 
but  that  we  should  get  an  opportunity  to  kill  one  at 
least.  In  due  course  of  time  we  arrived  in  the  region  of 
the  buffalo;  along  the  road  we  saw  a  number  of  partial 
carcasses  of  those  recently  slain.  We  were  told  that 
every  forenoon  they  would  come  into  the  valley  to  the 
river  to  get  water.  So  on  the  next  morning  after  our 
arrival  in  camp  we  were  up  early  with  buffalo  hunting 
“on  the  brain.”  At  an  early  hour  we  could  discover  at 
a  distance  of  six  miles  out  on  the  bluffs,  large  herds  of 
something  slowly  moving  about.  We  were  told  they 
were  buffalo,  and  they  were  moving  toward  the  river. 
I  was  all  expectation.  My  breech-loading  Sharps  rifle 
was  soon  in  trim  ;  saw  that  plenty  of  cartridges  were  in 
their  place  in  my  belt.  I  was  on  the  north  side  of  the 
river  and  those  immense  herds  of  buffaloes  on  the  south, 
and  the  river  a  half  mile  wide  between.  But  when  a 
man  in  this  country  wants  to  accomplish  anything  he 
really  wants  to  do  it  “bad,”  all  owing  to  the  climate  no 
doubt.  We  had  no  opportunity  to  cross  the  river  only 

(25) 


2  6 


A  HERD  OF  BUFFALOES. 


afoot.  The  water  was  not  deep,  but  this  cold  November 
morning  considerable  ice  was  formed  over  the  eddy  chan¬ 
nels.  The  Platte  river  as  a  rule  is  broken  up  into  chan¬ 
nels  with  sand-bars  intervening.  Arriving  at  the  bank 
of  the  river  we  removed  our  boots  and  boldly  ventured 
into  the  icy  waters.  The  ice  would  break  under  our 
feet;  nothing  daunted  us  so  we  hurried  across.  After  ar¬ 
riving  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  we  could  now  see 
the  buffalo  plainly  coming  toward  us.  The  nearest  herd 
seemed  to  be  advancing  towards  a  point  half  a  mile 
below  us.  To  reach  the  point  that  the  buffaloes  might 
not  see  us  we  were  under  the  necessity  of  creeping  along 
under  the  bank  of  the  river,  some  times  stepping  into 
the  water  two  feet  deep  ;  however,  we  arrived  at  the 
point  where  we  supposed  the  herd  would  come  to  the 
river.  We  now  had  some  time  to  take  a  view  of  the 
situation.  The  buffalo  were  coming  on  slowly  but  surely; 
we  could  plainly  discern  their  size  and  form.  Being  the 
first  we  ever  saw  it  is  needless  to  say  we  were  not  a  little 
nervous.  Stories  that  had  been  told  us  of  wonderful 
encounters  with  wounded  buffalo,  hair-breadth  escapes, 
came  fresh  to  our  mind.  Also,  were  told  that  when  they 
get  near  the  water  they  usually  run  pell  mell  into  the 
river,  those  in  the  rear  pushing  those  in  the  front  out 
into  the  water.  Now  should  such  be  the  case,  might 
not  I  be  in  great  danger?  Thus  I  reasoned.  It  was  not 
long  until  they  arrived  near  enough  that  I  could  hear 
their  peculiar  lowing  as  they  came  nearer  and  nearer. 
There  was  one  that  seemed  to  be  their  leader.  He  was 
a  huge  monster  of  probably  two  thousand  Ebs.  weight, 
with  many  others  of  similar  size.  There  was  fifty  to  one 


KILLED  MY  FIRST  BUFFALO. 


27 


hundred  in  the  herd.  On  they  came  with  heavy  tread 
and  swaying  motion,  stopping  now  and  then  to  take  a 
view  of  the  situation.  I  was  also  taking  observations. 
One  has  to  meet  face  to  face  his  coveted  game  as  I  there 
did,  for  the  first  time  to  form  any  idea  of  our  feelings. 
The  herd  when  within  three  to  four  hundred  yards,  made 
a  long  pause  as  if  snuffing  danger  ahead. 

When  they  started  again  they  did  so  by  making  an 
angle  in  a  direction  above  me.  This  was  some  relief  to 
me.  When  within  a  short  distance  of  the  river  they 
broke  into  a  rolling  run  and  went  like  a  herd  of  half- 
famished  beasts  into  the  river,  making  a  terrible  plunge 
and  noise  like  that  of  a  rushing  avalanche.  There  was 
a  bend  in  the  river  and  banks  so  high  that  the  herd  was 
hidden  from  my  sight.  No  sooner  was  the  body  of  the  herd 
into  the  river  than  I  sprang  up  the  bank  and  in  a  stoop¬ 
ing  position  moved  through  the  deep  grass  to  a  point 
where  I  could  see  some  of  them.  On  my  emerging  from 
my  hiding  place  under  the  bank  of  the  river  those  strag- 
ling  ones  of  the  herd  that  had  not  yet  got  into  the  river 
broke  and  run,  evidently  much  frightened.  Selecting  for 
my  first  shot  a  fine  looking  buffalo  that  stood  on  a  small 
sand  bar  drinking  out  of  the  edge  of  the  water,  I  fired 
and  was  proud  to  see  my  shot  was  effectual.  The  report 
of  my  gun  so  frightened  the  herd  that  they  ran  out  of 
the  water  and  stopping  for  a  moment  on  the  bank  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  fire  at  a  very  fine  cow,  hitting  her  in 
the  shoulder.  She  however,  went  off  on  a  run,  badly 
wounded ;  I  followed  her  for  several  miles  into  the  bluffs 
but  failed  to  secure  her.  We  skinned  the  one  we  killed 
at  the  river  and  in  the  evening  got  the  meat  to  camp 


28 


PROVISIONS  IN  PLENTY. 


where  we  were  glad  to  rest  from  our  day’s  hunt.  This 
was  our  first  hunt  on  the  plains,  but  by  no  means  the 
last,  of  which  more  anon.  Having  in  addition  to  the 
buffalo  we  killed,  two  antelope,  we  returned  to  our  home 
at  Greeley  pretty  well  stocked  with  provision  in  the  meat 
line. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MASSACRED  BY  THE  INDIANS. 

Having  spent  a  few  months  in  Greeley  we  left  the 
town  and  moved  with  our  family  nearly  one  hundred 
miles  down  the  South  Platte  river,  and  having  thus  lo¬ 
cated  far  from  railroads  and  where  there  were  but  very 
few  settlers  we  had  an  opportunity  to  realize  what  it  was 
to  be  isolated  from  the  busy  world,  and  experience  fron¬ 
tier  life  in  its  true  nature.  We  were  almost  within  a 
stone’s  throw  of  the  old  American  ranch  which  was  noted 
for  being  the  scene,  but  a  few  short  years  before,  of  a 
bloody  massacre  of  some  whites  by  the  Indians. 

I  have  frequently  seen  the  graves  of  the  victims  and 
been  within  the  room  where  the  pleadings  of  a  fond 
mother  could  not  save  her  dear  children.  Much  blame 
is  laid  to  the  horrible  cruelty  of  the  Indians,  but  often  he 
is  incited  by  revenge  to  his  acts  of  cruelty.  In  the  case 
of  this  massacre  there  was  a  circumstance  occurred  that 
caused  the  Indians  to  take  such  terrible  summary  re¬ 
venge. 

The  Indians  and  whites  were  not  on  good  terms  for 
some  time  previous.  One  of  the  white  men  killed  an 
Indian  and  I  am  told  propped  him  up  against  the  corral 
wall  where  others  as  they  passed  at  some  distance  could 
see  him.  As  might  be  supposed  this  incited  the  Indians 
to  vengeance.  It  was  difficult  for  the  Indians  to  ap¬ 
proach  the  house  in  day  time  without  being  seen.  The 

(29) 


3o 


WHOLESALE  SLAUGHTER. 


whites,  who  were  six  in  number,  three  men,  one  woman 
and  two  children,  kept  a  close  watch  that  the  Indians 
might  not  approach  unobserved.  This  ranch  was  one 
at  which  emigrants  frequently  put  up,  it  being  on  the 
old  California  route. 

The  Indians  watched  their  opportunity  when  no  emi¬ 
grants  were  present,  and  under  the  shelter  of  night  se¬ 
creted  themselves  in  a  depression  in  the  ground  some  six 
feet  deep  that  was  near  the  house.  Awaiting  in  the 
morning  until  the  door  was  opened  and  some  of  the  men 
stepped  outside  some  distance  from  the  house,  the  In¬ 
dians,  over  a  hundred  in  number,  made  a  rush  for  the 
house.  As  they  came  they  gave  vent  to  loud  and  terri¬ 
ble  yells.  The  men  rushed  for  their  arms  but  were  soon 
overpowered.  One  ran  for  the  river,  but  was  overtaken, 
killed  and  scalped.  The  other  two  men  were  killed  in 
the  house ;  then  come  the  children’s  turn.  The  mother 
pleaded  for  them  to  spare  her  childreu,  but  no  they 
would  not.  They  were  also  killed  and  the  terror  stricken 
mother  taken  captive  by  these  blood-thirsty  savages  and 
carried  off  with  them.  Her  sufferiugs  and  sorrows  with 
the  events  of  her  life  while  in  captivity  would,  if  enu¬ 
merated,  fill  a  volume.  In  course  of  time  she  was 
bought  out  of  captivity  and  is  now  living  in  Nebraska — 
or  at  least  was  not  long  since. 

The  three  murdered  men  and  two  children  were  de¬ 
cently  buried  near  the  bank  of  the  broad  flowing  Platte. 
Whenever  we  would  see  their  graves  we  would  think  of 
the  horrors  of  that  eventful  morning. 

But  a  short  distance  above  the  American  ranch,  was 
another  ranch  owned  and  kept  by  a  man  named  Godfrey. 


3i 


A  CLEVER  RUSE. 


The  Indians  now  thirsty  for  more  blood  made  an  attack 
on  this  ranch  also  ;  but  the  inmates  were  not  taken  by 
surprise.  There  were  at  the  ranch  at  the  time,  God¬ 
frey’s  wife,  another  woman,  and  a  hired  man  and  several 
children.  All  took  quarters  for  safety  in  a  circular  fort 
house  built  of  sod.  As  the  Indians  came  up  a  deadly  fire 
was  kept  up,  the  women  loading  the  guns  and  the  men 
firing  them.  Several  of  the  Indians  were  killed,  which 
caused  the  others  to  retreat  to  a  safe  distance.  The 
women  wore  hats  and  kept  marching  back  and  forth, 
making  the  Indians  who  could  see  them  believe  that  the 
fort  was  full  of  men.  In  this  way  they  were  kept  back 
though  they  would  not  leave;  it  was  thought  they  had 
sent  for  reinforcements.  At  night  one  of  the  men  at  the 
ranch  slyly  got  away  on  a  swift  horse  and  apprised  the 
soldiers  at  the  fort,  thirty  miles  further  up,  and  by  day¬ 
light  they  arrived  and  on  their  approach  the  Indians  left 
and  thus  was  prevented  another  bloody  massacre. 


:o: 


CHAPTER  IV. 


AMONG  THE  INDIANS. 

Over  a  thousand  Indians  had  come  into  the  South 
Platte  Valley,  in  Colorado,  and  were  camped  at  different 
points  along  the  river  between  Buffalo  and  Julesburg,  a 
station  on  the  U.  P.  R.  R.  In  company  with  a  number 
of  settlers  we  set  out  on  a  trip  from  Buffalo,  our  place  of 
residence,  to  Julesburg,  a  distance  of  75  miles.  We  all 
had  in  view  the  object  of  trading  some  with  the  Indians. 
The  first  night  we  camped  near  by  where  a  large  number 
of  the  Indians  had  pitched  their  tents.  One  of  the  most 
notable  features  about  an  Indian  camp  is  the  many  dogs 
which  as  you  pass  along  keep  up  a  din  of  noise  and 
confusion  that  is  quite  annoying.  The  little  dusky-boys 
and  girls  add  to  the  tumult  by  hallooing  “sick,”  “sick,” 
at  the  dogs,  which  is  the  Indian  phrase  to  call  a  dog  to 
them.  When  a  choice  feast  is  to  be  gotten  up  by  the 
Indian  cook,  in  consideration  of  some  important  event 
or  honored  guest,  a  roast  dog  figures  conspicuously  in 
the  bill  of  fare  !  We  noticed  many  of  the  squaws  and 
maidens  coming  into  camp  with  enormous  loads  of  brush 
wood.  Like  many  of  the  white  “Lords  of  creation, ”  the 
Indian  man  is  either  too  lazy  or  aristocratic  to  work, 
hence  makes  slaves  of  his  wives  or  daughters.  Our  camp 
was  thronged  with  Indians  eager  for  a  trade  of  some 
kind.  They  offered  blankets,  robes,  lariates,  moccasins, 
bows  and  arrows,  and  trinkets  of  various  kinds  in  ex- 


AGAIN  ON  THE  MOVE. 


33 


change  for  guns,  pistols,  ammunition,  bread  and  sugar 
and  coffee,  or  dry  goods  of  any  kind.  Many  of  the  In¬ 
dians  are  sharp  on  a  trade  while  others  seem  to  know  but 
little  of  the  value  of  commodities.  I  have  seen  some 
trade  goods,  to  the  value  of  a  dollar  for  a  pint  of  sugar. 
Of  course  no  honest  man  would  thus  trade,  even  with  an 
Indian. 

To  guard  against  having  our  horses  stolen  by  the 
Indians,  our  wagons  were  placed  in  a  position  forming  a 
circle,  inside  of  which  our  horses  were  placed,  and  our 
beds  made  upon  the  ground.  Resuming  our  journey  in 
the  morning,  about  ten  o’clock  in  the  day  we  came  near 
another  camp  of  the  Indians.  Hundreds  of  ponies  were 
grazing  on  the  wide  green  bottom  through  which  our 
road  ran.  Some  of  those  Indians  are  quite  wealthy. 
They  regard  their  wealth  in  the  number  of  ponies  they 
own.  Some  dress  quite  extravagantly.  One  young  man 
whom  we  imagined  to  be  the  son  of  a  Chief  rode  with  us 
some  distance.  His  neck,  ears  and  breast  were  loaded 
with  glittering  trinkets.  His  buckskin  suit  was  gor- 
geouly  trimmed  with  fringes,  tassals  and  stripes  of  red 
and  blue.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  fur  cap  or  turban, 
made  out  of  the  skin  of  a  swift  (a  species  of  fox).  The 
feathers  that  decked  the  same  were  such  that  the  vain 
girls  of  fashion  might  have  envied,  even  in  civilized  so¬ 
ciety.  He  carried  a  Sharp’s  rifle,  with  a  complete  hun¬ 
ter’s  outfit,  and  in  proudly  mien  sat  upon  his  beautiful 
horse,  as  erect  as  a  perpendicular  arrow.  He  seemed  to 
say  in  the  expression  of  his  appearance,  ‘  *  I  am  lord  of 
all  I  survey,  and  content  in  all  my  glory.  ” 

Further  on  we  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  an  exciting 


34 


A  RACE  AFTER  DEER. 


race  of  about  twenty  mounted  Indians  after  three  deer 
that  they  had  driven  from  an  island  in  the  river.  Soon 
the  deer  separated  and  a  number  of  the  Indians  took 
after  each  deer.  When  the  deer  would  run  into  the 
shallow  channel  of  the  river,  the  Indians  would  plunge 
in  also,  making  the  water  splash  in  sheets  on  either  side. 
When  on  the  grassy  bottom,  it  was  a  race  full  of  the 
greatest  excitement.  The  Indians  while  riding  at  full 
speed  kept  up  an  almost  continual  shooting  at  the  fleeing 
deer.  It  seemed  their  rifle  balls  mostly  missed  their 
aim.  However,  after  a  race  of  some  miles  two  of  the 
deer  were  killed.  The  Indians  were  but  a  few  minutes 
in  skinning  and  dissecting  the  carcasses  of  their  slain 
game.  They  suffer  nothing  to  go  to  waste.  A  little 
boy  was  riding  along  beside  our  wagon,  when  another 
larger  boy,  which  we  took  to  be  the  brother  of  the  other, 
came  galloping  up  with  something  in  his  Angers  from 
which  the  blood  was  dripping,  and  he  handed  it  to  the 
little  boy  who  ate  it  seemingly  with  the  relish  a  child 
would  a  stick  of  candy.  It  was  a  piece  of  the  warm 
liver  of  one  of  the  slain  deer. 

As  we  pursued  our  journey  Indians  were  to  be  seen  on 
every  hill,  some  chasing  the  fleet  antelope,  some  return¬ 
ing  from  their  hunt  with  pieces  of  meat  hanging  across 
their  ponies,  not  unfrequently  we  would  meet  one  with  a 
skunk  or  two  dangling  from  the  saddle.  This  species  of 
game  is  also  eaten  by  the  Indians,  as  are  also  rattle 
snakes  and  prairie  dogs!  When  a  buffalo  or  any  larger 
game  is  killed  the  women  are  sent  out  with  a  pony  (on 
either  side  of  which  a  long  pole  is  fastened,  the  rear  end 
dragging  on  the  ground)  to  bring  in  the  meat.  The  two 


INDIANS  BECOMING  ANNOYING. 


35 


poles  make  a  drag,  and  forms  the  only  vehicle  of  loco¬ 
motion  used  by  the  savage  Indians.  In  moving,  the 
“tepee”  poles  are  thus  lashed  to  the  sides  of  their  ponies 
and  their  camp  equipage  stacked  on.  Sometimes  the 
old  feeble  women  or  pappoos,  may  be  seen  riding  on  the 
drag.  Going  over  rough  ground  the  spring  of  the  poles 
make  the  passengers  bob  up  and  down  like  a  piece  of 
drift  wood  on  a  mad  stream. 

On  our  return  trip,  one  day  while  camping  at  noon, 
two  Chiefs  came  up  and  made  themselves  quite  socia¬ 
ble.  They  could  speak  English  very  well  for  Indians. 
We  learned  much  from  them  concerning  their  tribe,  the 
Sioux.  They  did  not  refuse  to  take  dinner  with  us — 
an  Indian  never  does  refuse  an  opportunity  to  eat,  espe¬ 
cially  when  coffee  and  plenty  of  sugar  is  to  figure  in  the 
meal. 

Arriving  at  Sarinda  where  there  was  a  post  office  and  a 
small  store,  we  found  scores  of  Indians  swarming  around 
the  place,  all  eager  either  to  trade  or  beg.  They  are 
adepts  at  the  latter.  Here  we  parted  from  the  last  of 
our  company,  and  yet  we  had  ten  miles  to  drive  to  reach 
our  home  and  family. 

For  several  miles  we  were  annoyed  by  the  Indians 
who  would  gallop  up  and  want  something.  Arriving  at 
a  ranch  we  went  in  to  deliver  a  letter,  and  found  the 
lady  of  the  house  and  two  small  children  at  home.  Her 
husband  was  from  home,  and  a  son  some  twelve  years  old 
had  gone  to  a  neighbor’s  house.  As  I  was  about  to  pass 
on,  two  Indians  were  seen  coming  at  full  speed  directly 
toward  the  house.  The  woman  requested  me  to  remain 
until  the  Indians  would  leave,  as  they  had  been  trouble- 


3 6  “THE  INDIAN  CLUTCHED  ME  BY  THE  COLLAR. ” 

some  all  day,  and  she  had  given  them  all  the  prepared 
food  she  had  in  the  house.  When  they  rode  up  to  the 
door  I  asked  what  they  wanted;  they  said  something  to 
eat.  Giving  them  to  understand  there  was  nothing  for 
them,  that  other  Indians  had  eaten  all  the  food,  they 
mounted  their  horses  and  rode  off.  Three  more  were 
seen  coming  at  full  speed.  As  they  came  up,  one,  the 
oldest  threw  himself  from  his  pony  and  attempted  to 
pass  the  woman,  who  was  standing  in  the  doorway. 
She  placed  both  hands  against  the  breast  of  the  dusky 
savage  and  pushed  him  back,  at  the  same  time  saying 
“No  Sir!  you  can’t  come  in  here.  That  game  is  played 
out!”  I  saw  at  once  he  was  angry.  To  be  interfered  with 
by  a  “pale  faced  squaw,”  as  the  Indians  say,  was  an  in¬ 
sult  of  great  magnitude  in  the  estimation  of  the  Indian. 
The  enraged  Indian  leaped  upon  his  pony  and  instead  of 
leaving  sat  there  with  the  rest  in  a  surly,  stubborn  man¬ 
ner,  as  much  as  to  say,  “we  will  leave  when  we  get 
ready.”  I  was  getting  impatient,  pointing  to  the  setting 
sun  and  then  to  their  camp,  I  gave  them  to  understand 
it  was  time  to  go.  But  there  they  sat  as  though  riveted 
to  the  spot.  Again  I  urged  them  to  leave  and  suiting  an 
action  to  my  words  I  placed  my  hand  on  the  side  of  the 
head  of  one  of  the  ponies  next  to  me,  and  quietly  turned 
it  to  one  side.  Almost  as  quick  as  thought  the  old  in¬ 
sulted  Indian  who  was  further  off,  gave  a  yell  and  his 
pony  sprang  forward,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  In¬ 
dian  clutched  me  by  the  collar  and  violently  pushed  me 
forward.  The  only  weapon  of  defense  I  had  was  a  heavy 
whip.  By  the  use  of  the  heavy  end  of  it  I  succeeded  in 
getting  him  to  loose  his-vice  like  grip  upon  me.  His 


IT  IS  FACT,  NOT  FICTION. 


37 


eyes  fairly  flashed  with  rage.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
look  of  that  savage.  With  all  the  calmness  I  could  com¬ 
mand  I  looked  at  him  as  much  as  to  say,  “We  fear  you 
not.”  One  of  the  other  Indians  said  something  and  they 
all  turned  and  galloped  off.  Were  we  writing  fiction  in¬ 
stead  facts  we  might  have  unfolded  a  bloody  tale  of  an 
imaginaay  nature.  It  was  enough  for  us  ;  we  prefer  to 
have  nothing  to  do  with  those  treacherous  savages. 


:o: 


CHAPTER  V. 


ASCENT  OF  LONG’S  PEAK. — TROUT  FISHING. 


All  aboard  for  the  mountains!  was  the  cry  on  the 
morning  of  the  20th  of  August,  as  we  rolled  away  from 
our  home  in  the  country  for  a  week’s  ramble  in  the 
mountains — the  glorious,  the  grand,  the  awe  inspiring 
mountains.  Our  party  consisted  of  the  Rev.  S.  C. 
Bashor,  of  St.  Vrain,  Rev.  H.  H.  Folck  and  J.  G.  Row¬ 
land,  of  Iowa,  both  here  for  their  health,  J.  C.  Funder- 
burgh  of  Greeley,  Colorado;  O.  Moherman  of  Ashland, 
Ohio,  and  your  humble  servant  the  editor  in  chief  of  the 
Home  Mirror.  The  presence  of  three  preachers  in  the 
company  of  six  was  no  evangelical  reason  why  the  trip 
should  not  be  an  enjoyable  one.  Our  “outfit”  was  made 
up  of  a  two  horse  wagon  with  cover  tied  “a  la  pull¬ 
back”  fashion  that  we  might  see  all  the  surroundings.  A 
camp  tent,  camp  stove,  buffalo  robes,  blankets  and  other 
necessary  bedding,  overcoats,  rubbers,  umbrellas,  boxes 
and  sacks  of  provisions,  cooking  utensils,  table  furniture, 
guns  and  amunition,  fishing  tackle,  feed  for  our  team, 
picket  ropes,  with  other  things  “too  tedious  to  men¬ 
tion.” 

It  was  the  boarding  school  miss  who  said  she  did  not 
see  how  one  little  head  could  contain  so  much,  likewise 

(38) 


GRANDEUR  AND  BEAUTY. 


39 


we  wondered  how  one  wagon  could  hold  so  much  and 
leave  room  for  half  a  dozen  passengers.  Our  drive 
soon  brought  us  to  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Vrain  canon, 
where  on  either  side  of  the  stream  may  be  seen  large 
irrigating  canals  one  after  another  to  the  number  of 
eight  or  ten  verging  out  farther  and  farther  into  the 
broad  rolling  plains,  like  so  many  great  arteries  to  give 
life  and  vigor  to  the  farms  that  lie  stretched  out  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  see.  No  sooner  do  we  get  fairly  into  the 
canon  than  the  scenery  becomes  highly  interesting.  The 
fortresses  of  nature  loom  up  in  grandeur  and  great 
beauty  environed  on  the  right  and  left  by  high  cliffs  rent 
and  riven  as  by  the  thunders  of  by  gone  ages,  we  had 
food  for  thought  and  speculation  enough  to  puzzle  the 
brain  of  the  most  enthusiastic  geologist.  Time  would 
fail  us  to  tell  of  the  wonders  of  those  grand  old  hills, 
hence  we  must  pass  on.  At  noon  we  halted  under  a 
sturdy  old  pine  near  by  one  of  those  cool  springs  that 
gush  from  beneath  the  rocky  cliffs.  The  cloth  was 
spread  upon  the  “lap  of  earth”  and  our  first  meal 
“camping  out”  taken.  While  eating,  the  six-horse 
stage  running  from  Longmont  to  Estes  Park,  came 
thundering  along  loaded  with  passengers  who  seemed 
joyous  and  happy.  In  due  course  of  time  we  were  again 
on  the  way,  now  going  north,  then  south,  then  west  as 
we  rounded  some  high  cliff  or  wended  our  way  up  some 
deep  chasm,  crossing  streams,  climbing  hills,  and  now 
and  then  rolling  along  through  a  grassy  park  where 
waved  a  very  sea  of  flowers  of  every  imaginable  hue 
and  variety.  The  magpies,  the  robins,  the  blue  birds, 
with  many  others  of  the  feathery  tribe,  all  seemed  happy 


40 


ESTES  PARK  IN  ALL  ITS  BEAUTY. 


and  joyous  and  added  new  interest  to  the  varied  scenes. 
The  sun  was  nearing  the  western  horizon  when  we  en¬ 
tered  the  “vestibule,”  lawn  or  park  through  which  we 
have  an  entrance  to  the  far  famous  Estes  park.  Soon 
after  entering  this  park  we  pitched  our  tent  for  the  night. 
Our  camp  stove  was  set  out  and  soon  supper  “steaming 
hot”  was  ready,  to  which  all  did  ample  justice.  Then 
our  horses  were  picketed  out  on  *  ‘green  pastures”  using 
stakes  and  long  ropes  for  the  purpose.  Our  beds  were 
made  upon  the  ground  in  the  tent  and  soon  all  were  in 
the  land  of  dreams.  Fresh  and  full  of  new  life,  in  the 
morning  we  wended  our  way  full  of  expectancy  of  the 
grand  feast  in  store  for  us  when  we  should  reach  the 
farther  end  of  this  inclined  plane.  Exclamations  of 
joy  and  admiration  burst  from  the  party,  when  suddenly 
to  our  view  Estes  Park  was  spread  out  before  our  ad¬ 
miring  eyes.  Surrounded  by  high  rugged  mountains  the 
sides  and  shoulders  studded  with  pines,  there  lay  the 
noble  park  with  its  verdant  lawn,  green  trees  and 
through  the  midst  of  it  flowed  the  broad,  crystal  stream 
of  the  Thompson.  Herds  of  cattle  and  horses  were 
feeding  upon  its  banks.  The  whole  scene  was  one  sug¬ 
gestive  of  the  land  of  Canaan  or  a  paradise  of  God. 
Entering  the  gate,  we  soon  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
park.  Mt.  Olympus  on  the  right,  reared  its  bald, 
craggy  head  a  thousand  or  more  feet  above  us;  Long’s 
Peak  to  the  left  as  the  grand  sentinel  of  all  those  mighty 
mountains  of  Divine  power,  hid  his  colossal  head  in  the 
clouds.  West  of  us  were  the  snow  capped  peaks  where 
the  ‘  ‘eternal”  snows  lay  year  after  year,  seeming  to  bid 
defiance  to  the  genial  rays  of  old  Sol.  We  made  but  a 


PACKED  UP  FOR  TRAVEL. 


ON  * 1  MOUNTAIN  JIM’S  ”  TRAIL.  41 

short  halt  at  the  first  hotel,  passed  on  through  the  park 
passing  in  full  view  of  the  Park  Hotel,  a  $20,000  house. 
We  were  overtaken  as  we  passed  by  the  Earl  of  Dun- 
raven  who  was  out  with  two  ladies  riding.  The  Earl, 
we  were  told,  owns  ten  thousand  acres  of  this  beautiful 
park.  He  passes  much  of  his  time  hunting  with  his 
friends.  Soon  after  leaving  Estes  Park  we  passed  by 
Lily  Lake,  which  is  a  lake  in  the  mountains  probably  a 
mile  in  length  and  the  surface  of  the  lake  is  almost 
completely  covered  with  large  water  lilies.  Arriving  at 
Elder  Lamb’s  in  Sister  Park,  we  left  our  wagon  and  set 
out  to  make  the  ascent  of  Long’s  Peak.  We  packed 
our  bedding,  tent  and  some  provisions  on  our  two  beasts 
of  burden  and  set  out  on  ‘ ‘Mountain  Jim’s”  trail;  a 
heavy  rain  soon  set  in  but  on  we  went,  up,  up,  through 
the  timber,  along  the  zigzag  path  over  rocks  and  around 
precipitous  points  we  wended  our  way  nearing  timber 
line;  suddenly  we  came  into  an  open  space  where,  on 
looking  down  through  a  deep  mountain  gorge,  we  saw 
a  most  magnificent  sight.  One  end  of  a  broad  and 
gorgeously  painted  rainbow  lay  below  us.  To  thus  look 
down  upon  such  a  rainbow  in  such  a  place  was  a  scene 
we  can  no  more  describe  than  we  could  the  glory  of  the 
“third  heavens.” 

Arriving  at  timber  line  (which  is  as  far  up  as  timber 
grows)  we  halted  and  prepared  to  camp  for  the  night; 
we  soon  had  going  a  roaring  log  fire  which  was  neces¬ 
sary  to  dry  our  drenched  clothing.  The  light  of  our 
fire  attracted  to  our  camp  a  jack  rabbit  which  served  as 
a  target  for  our  camp  artillery.  The  rabbit  was  killed 
and  the  editor  had  a  sore  arm  the  rest  of  that  night 


42 


SIX  THOUSAND  FEET  ABOVE  US. 


owing  to  the  back  action  of  the  gun.  However,  he  was 
up  bright  and  early  next  morning  and  left  camp,  climb¬ 
ing  to  a  high  point  on  the  mountain  to  see  the  sun  rise, 
and  we  were  well  paid  for  our  pains.  Looking  far  out 
across  thirty  miles  of  mountains  that  lay  seemingly  at 
our  feet  and  then  a  hundred  miles  or  more  across  the 
plains  we  could  see  the  glow  of  the  coming  sun  shining 
against  the  horizon.  Out  of  what  seemed  a  hazy,  misty 
blue  ocean  the  glowing  rim  of  the  sun  came  slowly  peep¬ 
ing  up  and  when  fully  up  the  sheen  of  splendor  that 
paved  the  pathway  of  its  rays  across  the  plains  was 
glorious  indeed.  Hastening  back  to  camp  we  found 
breakfast  awaiting  us  which  after  having  disposed  of  we 
set  out  to  make  the  final  ascent  of  Long's  Peak  which 
still  held  his  hoary  rifted  head  6,000  feet  above  us — yes 
near  or  quite  a  mile  above  where  we  were  (measuring 
straight  up.) 

Our  route  was  somewhat  circuitous.  Over  the 
* ‘Boulder  Field,”  the  “Sea  of  Rocks,”  across  a  huge 
bank  of  snow,  where  we  noticed  a  bear  had  preceeded 
us  but  a  short  time.  For  the  last  mile  our  route  was 
over  one  continuous  bed  of  huge  rocks  piled  on  each 
other.  A  stream  of  water  from  the  melting  snows 
coursed  its  way  among  the  rocks  ever  and  anon  coming 
out  into  the  sunlight.  This  water  was  pure  as  the  dews 
of  heaven,  clear  as  the  crystal  fount  of  Paradise  and  as 
cold  we  imagine  as  the  drippings  from  the  north  pole. 
The  last  few  feet  before  reaching  the  “Keyhole”  is  very 
rough  and  steep,  but  on  arriving  at  the  “Keyhole” 
(which  is  a  peculiar  opening  under  and  between  rocks 
that  admits  of  a  passage  across  the  rugged  spur  of  the 


A  DANGEROUS  CLIMB. 


43 


peak,)  one  is  amply  repaid  for  their  trouble  in  climbing 
thus  far.  The  scenery  is  terrible  and  grand  beyond  des¬ 
cription;  one’s  head  grows  dizzy  in  looking  down  thou¬ 
sands  of  feet  to  the  silvery  stream  and  lakes  that  are 
seen  nestling  away  down  there  in  such  passing  beauty 
and  quietude.  Beyond  are  the  high  and  rugged  cliffs. 
Many  persons  in  attempting  the  ascent  of  Long’s  Peak 
never  get  beyond  this  point.  We  passed  on  and  by 
missing  the  trail  we  soon  found  ourselves  climbing  over 
steep  and  dangerous  precipices.  To  lose  our  footing 
would  have  insured  certain  destruction  upon  the  rocks 
thousands  of  feet  below.  By  one  another’s  assistance 
over  dangerous  places  we  all  arrived  at  the  great  draw 
or  trough  that  leads  up  the  sides  of  the  cliff,  one  side 
was  full  of  snow  and  ice.  Now  the  ascent  was  up,  up, 
steeper  and  steeper  it  became;  the  air  being  so  very 
light  we  could  only  climb  a  short  distance  and  then  rest 
and  thus  we  continued  to  climb  for  several  thousand 
feet;  often  the  loose  rocks  would  slide  from  under  our 
feet,  yet  we  toiled  on  and  on,  at  last  another  spur  was 
crossed  and  now,  oh!  what  a  dizzy  height  to  look  over 
into  that  great  abyss.  Stout  must  be  the  heart  of  the 
one  that  can  look  over  and  down  that  one  mile  of  pre¬ 
cipices  and  not  quail  at  the  sight.  And  now  see  our 
pathway  along  that  narrow  shelf  scarcely  three  feet  in 
width;  a  perpendicular  cliff  a  thousand  feet  high  on  one 
side  and  a  yawning,  almost  bottomless  gulf  beneath  our 
feet  on  the  other,  but  summoning  courage  we  pass  along 
this  “narrow  way”  a  hundred  yards  or  more  and  now 
come  around  on  the  southeast  side  of  the  peak  and  see 
at  last  where  we  must  climb  to  reach  the  long  looked  for 


44 


DINNER  ABOVE  THE  CLOUDS. 


top.  What?  must  we  climb  these  huge,  slab  cliffs  set 
up  as  they  are  at  an  angle  of  fifty  or  sixty  degrees?  It 
is  the  only  chance.  Eager  now  to  reach  the  top  we 
venture  on,  sometimes  climbing  on  hands  and  knees,  the 
ragged  edges  of  the  rocks  to  hold  to,  and  sometimes  we 
can  only  get  foothold  by  crowding  our  feet  into  the 
cracks  of  the  rocks.  Should  we  lose  our  footing  we 
would  be  hurled  thousands  of  feet  below.  At  last  we 
reached  the  top.  We  forget  our  pains  and  fears  in  con¬ 
templation  of  the  grand  panorama  spread  out  around 
us.  Passing  to  the  west  side  and  looking  over  oh!  what 
a  scene  meets  our  eye.  We  are  above  the  clouds;  as 
we  look  down  on  the  rolling  clouds  it  seems  as  if  we 
were  looking  into  the  ocean  of  eternity.  In  our  im¬ 
agination  we  pictured  out  such  a  scene  as  this  when  in 
the  beginning  God  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth  and 
all  was  yet  void.  As  the  thick  clouds  strike  the  side  of 
the  old  peak  they  roll  up  in  volumes  of  mist  as  though 
the  boiling  caldron  of  Tophet  was  beneath  our  feet. 
Having  brought  up  with  us  some  materials  necessary  to 
make  some  experiments  at  this  high  altitude  of  over 
14,300  feet  above  the  sea  level,  we  soon  had  water 
boiling  (using  alcohol  for  fuel)  and  boiled  three  eggs  for 
dinner.  It  took  ten  minutes  boiling  to  cook  them  to  a 
state  that  would  be  called  soft  boiled  eggs.  The  air  is 
so  light  at  that  elevation  that  water  boils  at  a  much 
lower  temperature  than  lower  down,  this  is  why  it  takes 
longer  to  cook  anything  at  a  higher  altitude.  There 
were  times  when  the  clouds  would  pass  by,  then  we  had 
a  grand  view  on  every  side.  The  plains  lay  out  before 
us  like  a  great  map.  The  streams,  lakes,  farms,  cities, 


A  PERILOUS  DESCENT. 


45 


towns,  all  added  great  beauty  to  the  scene.  West  of 
us  rivers  and  parks,  lakes  and  snow-capped  mountains 
stretched  out  in  one  grand  expanse  of  grandeur. 

Only  think  of  it,  there  was  spread  around  us  a  grand 
panoramic  view  of  nature  in  all  her  varied  beauty  for  a 
circuit  of  six  hundred  miles.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
see  by  the  aid  of  a  good  glass  the  handiwork  of  Om¬ 
nipotence  has  spread  out  as  in  the  immensity  of  space. 
Could  we  help  but  feel  like  saying,  “Oh!  God  how 
wonderful  are  thy  works.  ” 

This,  one  of  the  most  massive  and  grand  peaks  of  the 
North  American  Continent  stands  out  from  the  sur¬ 
rounding  mountains  and  looms  up  portentously,  as  one 
of  God’s  fingers  pointing  away  to  His  throne  above  the 
stars.  How  one’s  soul  swells  at  the  sight  of  heaven’s 
ineffable  grandeur,  and  his  thoughts  fill  to  overflowing 
while  drinking  in  the  beauty,  wonder  and  magnificence 
of  nature  as  held  up  by  nature’s  God.  We  fain  would 
have  lingered  longer  upon  this  stupendous  mount  of 
nature  and  “viewed  the  landscape  o’er,”  but  nay  we 
could  not  stay.  Our  descent  was  perilous  but  we  all 
came  down  in  safety  and  arrived  in  camp  tired  but 
satisfied  with  our  day’s  experience  and  accomplishments. 
Early  next  morning  we  packed  our  “traps”  and  set  out 
to  make  the  further  descent  to  where  we  left  our  wagon. 
On  our  way  down  we  met  several  parties  who  were  on 
their  way  up  to  make  the  ascent  of  the  peak;  .among 
the  number  were  several  ladies  going  up  as  far  as  timber 
line  on  horse  back.  They  clung  to  their  steeds  with 
the  gallantry  of  Highland  cavaliers.  A  stirrup  on  each 
side  their  saddle  and  a  dainty  little  foot  in  each  was  ad- 


TROUT  FISHING. 


46 

missible  under  the  circumstances  and  a  right  any 
woman  has  in  this  ‘  ‘land  of  the  free,  and  home  of  the 
brave.  ” 

Arriving  at  Elder  Lamb’s  again,  we  got  some  of  the 
best  milk  and  butter  we  ever  tasted;  we  had  a  late 
breakfast  and  then  were  off  for  the  waters  where  the 
sporting  trout  make  their  home.  Arriving  about  noon 
upon  the  banks  of  the  North  St.  Vrain  we  pitched  our 
tent  and  each  one  eager  for  the  prey,  set  out  to  tempt 
the  cunning  beauties  to  take  either  a  grasshopper  or  an 
artificial  fly.  The  first  fish  the  unscientific  editor  had 
flying  in  the  air  was  a  beauty  about  a  foot  in  length. 
As  he  did  not  feel  disposed  to  enter  into  the  excitement 
too  much  on  the  start  he  passed  a  part  of  the  afternoon 
resting  in  the  tent  reading  glowing  accounts  in  “Scrib¬ 
ner”  of  trout  fishing  in  Maine  which  probably  was  some¬ 
thing  to  boast  of  in  that  country,  but  here  we  intended 
on  the  morrow  to  beat  it  if  we  could.  To  say  how 
many  trout  disappeared  as  they  came  from  the  frying 
pan  that  evening  would  hardly  be  credited  so  we  won’t 
tell,  suffice  it  to  say  excited  brains  require  large  quan¬ 
tities  of  “brain  food.” 

Of  course  we  all  had  a  splendid  night’s  rest,  to  say 
nothing  of  that  ‘  ‘ghost”  one  of  our  party  shot  at  during 
the  night.  (Who  said  it  was  a  white  stump?) 

Bright  and  early  all  were  off  with  fishing  poles,  ready 
to  bag  the  unsuspecting  trout  by  the  score.  We  went 
to  where  the  stream  rolled  over  high  rocks,  cascade  fash¬ 
ion,  and  soon  had  the  shiny  speckled  beauties  flying 
from  the  seething,  whirling  water  high  into  the  air  and 
upon  the  bank;  sometimes  they  would  lodge,  line  and 


“DELIGHTFULLY  AGGREVAT1NG. 


47 


all,  twenty  feet  up  in  the  branches  of  a  fir  tree.  To  get 
the  line  disentangled  came  in  as  that  part  of  the  sport 
called  “delightfully  aggravating.”  Sometimes  the  big 
fish  would  snap  a  hook — that  too  was  delightful  as  far  as 
it  went — especially  to  see  it  flop  out  into  the  air  and  give 
a  good  showing  of  his  three  pound  body  and  then  dis¬ 
appear.  Following  down  the  stream  we  finally  came  to 
a  dam  formed  by  a  lot  of  drift  wood,  here  the  fish  were  so 
plenty  and  eager  to  bite  that  scarcely  did  the  tempting 
bait  touch  the  water  until  one  had  it.  This  was  what  we 
would  call  live  sport,  we  were  so  intent  in  it  that  we 
scarcely  noticed  the  gathering  clouds  or  paid  attention  to 
the  rolling  thunder  until  the  rain  began  to  come  down 
in  torrents.  Three  miles  from  camp  and  a  load  of  fish 
to  carry  over  slippery  rocks  and  through  deep  grass  was 
not  so  pleasant  to  take  in.  How  true,  every  sweet  has 
its  bitter.  Our  bitter  had  come, however, we  were  equal 
to  the  emergency,  we  all  arrived  at  camp  “soaking wet.  ” 
What  piles  of  fish  were  around  that  camp!  What 
beauties  they  were,  fresh  from  those  icy  waters!  The 
number  caught  would  tally  in  the  hundreds,  what  it 
would  have  been  had  it  not  rained  we  cannot  say;  it 
continued  to  rain  all  the  afternoon.  A  good  log  fire  was 
built  under  a  large  pine;  standing  around  the  fire  with 
umbrellas  we  managed  to  get  “dried  out”  though  it  was 
past  io  o’clock  at  night  before  myself  and  J.  C.  F. 
rolled  in  for  sweet  repose.  Next  morning  was  bright 
and  beautiful — Sunday  morning — therefore  the  fish 
would  not  be  disturbed  in  their  liquid  home  by  us  this 
day.  After  a  repast  of  trout  and  “flap-jacks” — a  meal 
fit  for  a  king — we  ‘  ‘broke”  camp  and  came  into'  Estes 


BACK  HOME  AGAIN. 


48 

Park  where  we  camped.  This  was  our  last  camping  out 
and  it  was  a  pleasant  one.  Seated  around  a  large  fire 
of  pitch  pine  the  most  of  the  company  indulged  in  sing¬ 
ing  pleasant  songs,  the  echoing  melody  sounded  strangely 
beautiful  there  on  the  stillness  of  the  night.  The  stars 
gave  audience  and  all  nature  seemed  wrapped  in  sweet 
repose.  Oh!  how  we  love  to  steal  awhile  away  from 
the  busy  haunts  of  the  noisy  world  and  recuperate  our 
tired  brain,  revive  our  weakened  energies  and  then  come 
forth  anew  to  the  battle  of  life. 

Next  day  in  due  time  we  arrived  at  home  and  for  some 
days  to  come,  had  trout  to  eat  with  the  home  folks. 


:o: 


CHAPTER  VI. 

RAMBLINGS  IN  WYOMING  TERRITORY. 

Aboard  the  morning  express,  we  left  Longmont  en 
route  for  Wyoming  Territory  on  a  missionary  tour. 
Seventy-five  miles  north  brought  us  to  Cheyenne;  thence 
we'  took  passage  aboard  one  of  those  superb  trains  that 
grace  the  U.  P.  R.  R.  Westward  ho!  was  the  watch¬ 
word  as  we  were  hurled  along.  Crossing  the  Laramie 
plains  we  encountered  a  driving  snow  storm  ;  the  wind 
blew  a  furious  gale.  Arriving  at  Lookout  Station  about 
10  o’clock  at  night,  the  conductor  informed  the  passen¬ 
gers  there  was  an  engine  off  the  track  just  ahead.  We 
knew  what  that  meant;  nothing  short  of  a  long  delay. 
The  train  hands  worked  all  night  in  the  storm,  and  next 
day  until  io  o’clock,  before  our  train  could  pass.  When 
we  did  get  started  the  train  whirled  along  at  a  fearful 
speed  around  the  short  curves  that  are  common  in  the 
rough  country — an  extension  of  the  Black  Hills — through 
which  we  passed.  A  thick  growth  of  sage  brush  covered 
the  entire  face  of  the  country.  After  passing  through  a 
tunnel  we  suddenly  emerged  into  the  valley  of  the  North 
Platte,  crossing  the  same  on  a  trestle  bridge;  we  stopped 
at  the  Government  Post,  Fort  Fred  Steele,  180  miles 
west  from  Cheyenne.  We  noticed  a  number  of  Uncle 
Sam’s  “boys  in  blue”  around.  There  are  a  dozen  or 
more  log  houses  scattered  about,  a  stone  hospital,  station 
house,  and  post-traders’  store.  It  was  3  p.  m.  when  we 

(49) 


WE  HAD  LOST  THE  ROAD. 


SO 

arrived  at  the  Fort.  Our  friend,  L.  L.  Wagoner,  that 
had  come  to  meet  us,  was  on  hand,  having  waited  pa¬ 
tiently.  We  soon  were  off  by  wagon  for  a  35  miles 
drive  up  to  the  North  Platte  river.  After  driving  about 
eight  miles  we  came  to  the  first  ranch  situated  on  a 
small  tributary  stream;  it  was  then  about  sundown,  but 
we  pushed  on;  our  road  lead  us  across  a  promontory  run¬ 
ning  down  into  the  bend  of  the  river;  we  came  into  the 
old  emigrant  overland  trail;  by  the  light  of  the  innumer¬ 
able  host  twinkling  stars  we  could  see  the  broad  beaten 
track  over  which  so  many  wended  their  way  toward  the 
land  of  gold,  and  later  to  the  States  and  Territories  that 
lie  on  the  Pacific  Slope.  We  thought  of  an  only  sister, 
a  brother  and  a  father  that  had,  years  long  since  gone 
by,  traveled  over  that  same  road. 

Some  distance  on  we  left  the  main  road,  and  traveling 
on  in  rather  a  careless  manner,  we  found  we  had  lost 
the  road.  While  trying  to  find  it  we  were  revolving  in 
our  mind  the  prospect  of  camping  out  on  the  lonely 
plain  among  the  sage  brush;  however,  Mr.  Wagoner 
found  the  road  and  by  and  by  we  came  to  the  next  ranch 
on  our  route,  being  20  miles  from  the  station  we  had 
left  at  3  p.  M.  The  house  was  located  in  a  kind  of  a 
cove  near  the  river.  In  answer  to  a  knock  on  the  door 
we  were  kindly  invited  in  by  the  woman  of  the  house 
whom  we  found  to  be  a  lady  of  more  than  ordinary  in¬ 
telligence  and  culture.  The  surroundings  denoted  this 
was  a  home  of  wealth  and  comfort,  though  situated  in 
what  is  termed  the  wilds  of  the  west.  There  stood  the 
organ,  and  various  paintings  hung  upon  the  wall,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  many  attractions  that  make  home  look 


ATTENDING  DIVINE  SERVICE. 


51 


pleasant.  It  is  needless  to  say  we  had  a  pleasant  night's 
rest  and  a  sumptuous  breakfast  in  the  morning.  Mr. 
Frank  Earnest,  the  proprietor,  was  away  shipping  cattle 
to  Chicago,  he  being  the  owner  of  thousands  that  roam 
upon  the  plains.  His  young  wife,  our  kind  hostess, 
often  accompanies  her  husband  upon  the  long  cattle 
hunts  upon  the  plains.  She  is  a  good  rider  as  well  as  a 
good  shot  with  the  rifle.  On  her  first  hunt  she  killed 
two  antelope  and  a  sage  hen  ;  since  then  she  has  killed 
others.  On  one  hunt  she  stood  by  her  husband  as  he 
killed  a  huge  bear.  She  has  running  about  the  house  a 
tame  mountain  sheep  which  she  reared  from  the  time  of 
its  capture,  it  then  being  but  a  little  lamb. 

The  morning  was  bright  as  we  pulled  out  on  our 
journey.  After  fording  the  river  we  verged  off  westward, 
and  crossing  the  country  came  to  Spring  Creek  that 
takes  its  rise  up  in  the  snowy  range.  On  this  creek  we 
found  a  number  of  new  settlers,  all  more  or  less  engaged 
in  the  stock  business.  About  noon  we  arrived  at  the 
home  of  Mr.  Wagoner,  where  we  found  a  pleasant  home 
and  kind  friends.  At  3  p.  M.  we  attended  our  first  ap¬ 
pointment  for  divine  service  at  Mr.  C.  L.  Wells',  who 
but  recently  came  from  the  pleasant  walks  of  city  life  to 
try  the  novel,  but  independent  life  of  a  stock  man  on 
the  range.  He,  with  his  interesting  family  and  friends 
that  are  with  him,  treated  us  with  marked  kindness  and 
Christian  courtesy.  Mr.  Wells  has  an  excellent  organ, 
and  is  a  great  lover  of  music.  Since  the  settlement  of 
that  section  of  country  there  never  had  been  any  public 
preaching  there  until  we  went  among  them.  They  have 
organized  a  Sunday-school,  and  as  the  majority  of  the 


K 


UL  OF  iUL  LiBo 


52  AT  THE  PLACE  WHERE  THE  WOMEN  VOTE. 

settlers  on  the  creek  are  of  a  religious  turn  of  mind  we 
have  reason  to  believe  the  society  will  be  preferable  to 
many  other  localities  on  the  frontier.  In  our  judgment, 
that  section  of  country  is  one  most  admirably  adapted  to 
stock  raising,  that  is  cattle  and  horses.  There  is  a  large 
proportion  of  hay  land,  good  farm  land,  water  sufficient 
to  irrigate  a  considerable  area  of  land,  timber  for  build¬ 
ing  purposes  convenient,  so  that  taking  all  in  all  we  can 
recommend  it  to  those  who  want  to  “go  west.” 

The  Warm  Springs  are  a  few  miles  below  on  the  Platte 
river.  Those  Springs  have  a  good  reputation  owing  to 
the  great  virtues  of  the  waters  which  are  so  hot  as  to 
have  to  be  cooled  before  one  can  bathe  in  them.  The 
present  proprietor  has  done  but  little  to  improve  them, 
so  as  to  be  attractive.  A  company  talked  of  taking  hold 
of  them  and  putting  up  extensive  buildings. 

On  election  day,  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Wells, 
we  were  driven  to  the  Springs  that  we  might  interview 
the  place.  There  are,  probably,  a  dozen  neat  log  houses 
there,  a  post  office,  store,  boarding  house  and  bath 
rooms. 

It  was  quite  a  novel  sight  to  us  to  see  the  husband 
and  wife  walk  up  together  to  the  polls  and  each  put  in 
their  vote,  and  to  see  women  electioneering  ;  of  course, 
there,  where  both  sexes  vote  at  all  elections  they  go 
about  it  in  the  same  business  manner  that  the  ‘  ‘lords  of 
creation”  do  when  they  alone  have  a  right  to  vote. 
Women  voting,  in  the  minds  of  many,  is  but  a  “bug¬ 
bear.”  We  could  see  nothing  “terrible”  or  “awful^ 
about  it.  Why  an  intelligent,  sensible,  honest,  moral 
woman  of  property  should  have  no  vote,  while  an  illite- 


“TAKING  IN”  THE  ANTELOPE.  53 

rate,  drunken  sot  can  be  held  up  to  vote,  is  a  question 
worthy  of  some  consideration. 

While  we  were  sojourning  among  the  people  on  Spring 
Creek  we  took  occasion  to  try  our  hand  some  little  in 
hunting.  One  morning  we  went  out  to  see  if  we  could 
“take  in”  some  antelope,  they  being  very  plenty  there. 
On  going  down  the  creek  we  soon  saw  a  large  herd 
coming  in  from  the  bluffs,  but  they  passed  ahead  of  us. 
We  then  went  to  the  bluffs  and  soon  saw  three  running 
from  the  bottom  toward  the  bluffs;  just  as  they  were 
about  to  pass  up  a  ravine  we  let  our  gun  (Sharp’s  best) 
“talk.”  The  three  ran  on,  but  on  going  up  where  we 
could  see  them  we  found  one  had  laid  down  ;  a  party 
coming  along  just  then  put  their  dog  on  it,  but  it  was  too 
badly  wounded  by  our  shot  to  go  far  ;  we  soon  had  it 
dressed,  ready  to  be  taken  to  the  house.  Just  then  we 
noticed  another  herd  coming  in;  they  were  received  with 
a  salute  from  several  guns,  but  all  got  away  safely.  We 
then  waited  some  time  when  we  noticed  a  herd  passing 
about  a  mile  above  us;  they  passed  into  the  bottom  near 
a  house  where  some  men  were  at  work;  several  dozen 
shots  were  fired  at  them  which  turned  them  back  to  the 
bluffs.  Two  were  killed  out  of  the  herd  before  they 
came  within  gun  range  for  us  ;  our  time  came  and  just 
as  they  were  about  to  pass  us  on  the  run  we  pulled 
trigger  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  one  of  the  largest 
tumble  and  the  rest  of  the  herd  ran  over  it.  In  an  in¬ 
stant  we  had  another  cartridge  in  the  gun,  but  by  our 
carelessness  it  was  prematurely  discharged,  or  we  would 
most  likely  have  dropped  another.  Our  partner  also 
killed  one  out  of  the  same  herd.  Having  three  we  re¬ 
turned  to  the  house. 


54  SLEEPING  OUT  DURING  THE  SNOW  STORM. 

There  being  plenty  of  elk,  black  deer  and  bear  in  the 
mountains  we  wanted  to  go  and  hunt  for  them.  In  com¬ 
pany  with  friend  P.  R.  Wagoner  we  set  out  with  the 
wagon  for  a  hunt  in  the  mountains.  I  was  supplied  with 
a  number  one  Sharp's  rifle,  fifty  rounds  of  ammunition, 
and  a  knife  in  my  belt .  By  the  time  we  got  to  camp 
in  the  mountains  a  snow  storm  was  under  good  headway. 
We  reconoitered  around  camp  in  a  circuit  of  some  miles, 
but  no  luck.  It  snowed  very  rapidly  off  and  on  all  after¬ 
noon. 

As  we  were  sitting  in  camp  by  the  log  fire  about  sun¬ 
down,  three  fine  black  deer  came  walking  up  the  gulch 
towards  us,  stopping  occasionally  to  look  at  the  unusual 
appearance  of  things.  Having  waited  until  they  came 
within  good  range  we  prepared  to  receive  them;  by  a 
misunderstanding  I  shot  too  soon  for  my  friend,  and  they 
all  ran  down  the  gulch  with  Mr.  Wagoner  in  pursuit, 
and  a  short  distance  below  he  killed  one.  It  was  a  nice 
one;  some  of  those  black  deer  will  dress  from  two  hun¬ 
dred  to  two  hundred  fifty  pounds  each,  and  the  meat  is 
the  finest  I  ever  ate.  From  a  portion  of  the  meat  of 
the  one  he  killed  we  had  a  splendid  supper,  and  then  in 
due  time  we  prepared  our  bed  under  the  wagon.  Our 
rifles  we  took  to  bed  with  us,  or  rather  they  lay  by  our 
side  just  under  the  cover,  loaded  and  ready  for  action. 
It  is  not  an  unusual  thing  for  bear  to  visit  the  camp  at 
night  and  carry  off  the  game.  We  intended  to  fight  for 
our  fine  specimen  of  game  rather  than  let  Bruin  have  it. 
It  snowed  and  stormed  all  night;  we  got  an  extra  cover¬ 
ing  for  our  bed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  coating  of  snow  in 
our  hair.  Next  morning  our  boots  were  frozen,  so  we 


WALLE  PROVISIONED  RANCH.  (55) 


l 


ONCE  MORE  HOMEWARD  BOUND.  5$ 

waded  out  through  eight  inches  of  snow  to  the  fire  where 
we  had  to  thaw  our  boots  before  we  could  get  them  on. 
It  still  was  stormy,  so  we  concluded  to  pull  out  for  home, 
or  we  might  not  be  able  to  get  out;  before  we  left,  an 
antelope  was  killed  and  dumped  into  the  wagon  with  the 
deer.  Owing  to  the  storm  we  failed  to  get  among  the 
elk  or  have  a  shot  at  a  cinnamon  or  grizzly  bear  as  we 
hoped  to  do  ;  better  luck  next  time,  we  trust. 

Spring  Creek,  the  locality  mentioned  above,  is  about 
sixty  miles  from  the  place  Thornburg  had  his  battle  with 
the  Indians  last  Fall  and  about  seventy-five  miles  from 
the  White  River  Agency  or  Indian  Reservation.  The 
Cherokee  trail  passes  immediately  through  that  section 
and  many  thousands  of  cattle  pass  every  year  on  the 
drive  from  California,  Oregon  and  other  sections  of  the 
West.  The  native  cattle  that  we  saw  up  there  were  as 
fat  as  we  ever  saw  cattle  anywhere.  We  are  told  they  go 
through  the  winter  in  excellent  condition  without  any 
feed  only  what  they  get  on  the  range. 

On  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  November  we  set  out  in 
company  with  J.  J.  Wagoner  for  the  Fort.  About  2 
p.  M.  a  severe  snow  storm  set  in;  being  in  an  open  wagon 
it  was  disagreeable,  but  we  faced  the  driving  storm  for 
fifteen  miles  across  the  uninhabited  plain;  once  we  had 
about  concluded  to  leave  the  wagon  and  make  our  way 
on  horseback;  however,  we  wended  our  way  on,  crossed 
the  river  after  night  and  finally  got  to  the  Fort  all  right. 

Next  morning  we  left  aboard  the  express  homeward 
bound,  where  we  arrived  in  due  time. 


:o: 


CHAPTER  VII. 


SECOND  TRIP  INTO  WYOMING. 


Aboard  the  express,  we  left  Longmont  northward 
bound.  The  large  area  of  land  along  the  route  as  far 
as  Ft.  Collins,  brought  into  cultivation  within  the  last 
few  years  is  one  of  the  conclusive  evidences  that  Col¬ 
orado,  as  an  agricultural  state,  is  by  no  means  a  failure, 
and  the  numerous  stacks  of  grain  show  that  the  husband¬ 
man  is  well  paid  for  his  labors.  The  day  was  a  beauti¬ 
ful  one,  the  snowy  range  in  its  white  garb  looking  mag¬ 
nificent.  At  Cheyenne,  the  seat  of  Government  of 
Wyoming  Territory,  we  changed  cars  and  soon  were 
rolling  along  over  the  smooth  bed  of  the  U.  P.  R.  R. 
westward.  Before  reaching  Sherman  we  entered  the 
broken  country  adjacent  the  Black  Hills,  which  are 
plainly  visible  in  the  north-west.  To  the  south  and 
south-west  the  grand  old  Rockies  loom  up  in  majestic 
splendor,  and  at  Sherman,  the  highest  Railroad  point  in 
the  world,  we  realize  the  fact  we  are  upon  the  back¬ 
bone  of  the  American  Continent.  Leaving  Sherman  we 
soon  go  down  a  western  slope  into  the  Laramie  plains, 
where  thousands  of  stock  roam  at  large  and  feed  upon 
the  nutritious  grasses.  Again  we  enter  a  rough  and 
broken  country,  and  night  closes  around  us. 

About  midnight  we  arrive  at  Fort  Fred  Steele,  situ- 

(so 


UP  THE  PLATTE  VALLEY. 


57 


ated  on  the  North  Platte  River  180  miles  west  of  Chey¬ 
enne.  At  the  station  we  were  met  by  friends  who 
piloted  us  to  their  camp  on  the  Platte  amid  the  green 
cottonwoods.  The  rest  of  the  night  we  spent  in  re¬ 
freshing  sleep  under  the  wide  canopy  of  Heaven. 

A  signal  gun  at  the  fort  gave  notice  the  sun  was  ris¬ 
ing.  Breakfast  was  prepared  by  the  camp  Are,  savory 
antelope  meat  was  one  of  the  things  we  ate  with  a 
relish. 

In  company  with  our  friends  we  traveled  by  team  up 
the  Platte  vall&y.  On  our  route  we  gathered  some  very 
fine  moss  and  wood  agates  that  abound  in  certain  local¬ 
ities. 

By  the  side  of  a  sparkling  stream  of  water  we  took 
dinner.  Soon  after  resuming  our  journey  we  came  to 
the  Warm  Springs,  situated  in  Carbon  county,  the  water 
of  one  of  the  springs  is  hot  enough  to  cook  an  egg,  so 
said.  We  imagine  those  springs  some  day  will  be  a 
noted  resort  for  the  public,  at  present  they  are  in  the 
hands  of  a  man  who  is  not  likely  to  improve  them 
much. 

Leaving  the  Platte  we  traveled  some  distance  up  one 
of  its  tributaries,  arriving  after  night  at  Mr.  L.  L. 
Wagoner’s,  our  place  of  destination,  some  35  miles 
from  Fort  Steele. 

Here  we  found  a  few  families  who  have  maintained 
their  integrity  even  amid  frontier  life.  They  are  not 
slack  in  their  sociability,  generosity,  and  desire  to  up¬ 
hold  Christian  and  intellectual  culture.  No  religious  ser¬ 
vices  had  been  held  there  for  about  a  year  before  our 


58  ON  HUNTING  BENT. 

visit.  They  have  a  good  school  house  and  school  in  ses¬ 
sion. 

This  section  of  the  territory,  as  is  the  case  where  I 
travelled  in  my  journey,  is  almost  entirely  devoted  to 
stock  raising,  though  vegetables  and  some  of  the  cereals 
may  be  successfully  raised.  Stock  raising  pays  from  50 
to  60  per  cent,  on  investment,  as  a  general  thing  -cattle 
and  horses  run  at  large  on  the  plains,  and  are  ‘  'rounded 
up”  once  in  the  spring  when  the  young  are  branded,  and 
once  in  the  fall  when  the  choicest  are  culled  out  and  sent 
to  market.  Sheep  husbandry  pays  equally  as  well  as 
cattle. 

On  Monday  morning  we  set  out  with  a  party  of  two 
others  for  a  two  days  hunt  in  the  mountains.  With  one 
of  Winchesters  latest  improved  repeating  rifles  and  60 
rounds  of  ammunition  “ye  editor”  felt  as  though  he 
might  cope  with  such  game  as  Bear,  Elk,  and  Deer  that 
it  was  said  abounded  in  the  regions  to  which  we  con¬ 
templated  going.  Each  of  the  party  rode  horse  back, 
and  upon  two  other  animals  were  packed  our  provisions, 
cooking  utensils,  bedding,  etc.  Our  procession  was  a 
novel  one,  however  all  set  out  in  good  spirits.  After  a 
ride  of  a  few  miles  we  entered  amid  the  foot  hills,  and 
as  we  proceeded  further  on,  the  way  became  more 
difficult.  The  forests  were  strewn  with  fallen  timber, 
the  mountain  sides  steep  and  rocky.  Only  to  persons 
used  to  such  a  way  of  travelling  into  the  mountains  did 
it  seem  possible  we  could  make  any  progress.  Our 
horses  were  used  to  climbing  over  fallen  timber  and  steep 
mountain  sides,  therefore  we  felt  safe. 

Just  after  having  entered  a  very  thick  body  of  green 


A  GENERAL  STAMPEDE.  59 

timber,  two  fine  black  deer  were  seen  just  ahead  of  us. 
Bang,  bang,  went  the  guns  and  down  came  one  of  them. 
After  dressing  it,  the  carcass  was  hung  upon  a  tree,  and 
we  proceeded  on,  climbing  the  steep  mountain  sides 
until  late  in  the  day,  near  the  snowy  regions,  we  came 
to  a  small  park  where  grass  was  fine,  and  here  we 
camped.  We  were  now  where  bear  and  elk  was  said  to 
abound.  It  was  near  here  that  one  of  our  party  only  a 
short  time  before  had  an  encounter  with  a  grizzly  bear 
of  huge  dimension.  By  the  time  dinner  was  over  it  was 
four  o’clock.  Each  of  the  party  then  set  out  in  differ¬ 
ent  directions  in  quest  of  game.  I  took  a  circuitous 
route  without  finding  any  game  until  near  sundown, 
when  suddenly  I  came  upon  a  herd  of  elk  and  a  number 
of  black  deer  that  were  quietly  grazing  together.  Before 
I  could  get  a  shot  at  them  they  became  aware  of  my 
presence,  and  with  their  caudal  appendage  erect,  they 
went  on  a  general  stampede  through  the  timber.  I  fol¬ 
lowed  on  for  about  half  a  mile  when  I  came  up  with  the 
elk  as  they  were  wading  in  a  lake  of  considerable  size. 
Having  a  good  position  upon  the  side  of  the  cliff,  I  com¬ 
menced  pouring  a  volley  from  my  rifle  into  their  midst. 
They  at  once  turned  and  came  out  upon  the  bank,  the 
timber  was  large  and  stood  thick  upon  the  ground,  but 
as  they  passed  an  open  space  I  had  the  opportunity  to 
get  in  some  good  shots,  but  with  what  success  I  could 
not  tell  until  going  down  to  the  spot,  when  I  found  I 
had  slain  three  elk  out  of  the  herd,  two  of  them  very 
fine  ones.  A  full  grown  elk  will  sometimes  net  four  to 
five  hundred  pounds.  I  at  once  set  out  for  camp  to  get 
help  in  the  dressing  of  the  carcasses.  I  was  of  the  im- 


6o 


IN  A  BAD  PREDICAMENT. 


pression  the  canyon  from  the  lake  led  to  camp,  so  I 
hurried  on  down  the  same.  After  going  about  a  mile  I 
concluded  I  had  made  a  mistake,  and  in  a  bewildered 
state  of  mind,  soon  was  conscious  of  the  fact  I  was  lost; 
night  was  closing  in,  and  as  one  might  imagine.  I  began 
to  feel  quite  uneasy  there  amidst  those  rugged  moun¬ 
tains,  invested  as  they  were  with  ravenous  wild  beasts. 
Believeing  I  had  taken  down  a  canyon  too  far  to  the 
north,  I  at  once  resolved  to  scale  the  large  mountain 
ridge  south  of  me.  Up,  up,  I  hastened,  on  over  fallen 
timber  until  I  felt  I  was  almost  exhausted.  About  half 
way  up  I  stopped  beside  a  huge  fallen  tree  to  rest.  It 
was  now  dark,  I  concluded  to  fire  a  signal  of  distress 
that  those  at  camp  might  respond,  that  I  might  find  my 
way  in.  As  I  was  in  the  act  of  working  the  mechanical 
arrangement  which  places  the  cartridge  in  the  barrel  of 
the  gun,  the  cartridge  suddenly  exploded  throwing  the 
contents  directly  into  my  face.  It  was  a  painful  acci¬ 
dent,  as  my  eyes  were  badly  burned  and  the  powder  en¬ 
tered  into  the  flesh  of  my  face.  It  was  some  little  time 
before  I  could  see  sufficiently  to  press  on  in  my  efforts  to 
reach  camp.  The  shattered  shell  got  fast  in  the  gun  so 
I  could  not  fire  a  signal.  I  finally  reached  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  and  as  hastily  as  possible  under  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  started  down  the  opposite  side;  soon  I  heard 
the  sound  of  a  gun  shot  at  camp;  it  was  a  great  relief, 
my  friends  at  intervals  continued  the  signal  until  I  at 
last  reached  camp,  completely  exhausted.  I  threw  my¬ 
self  upon  some  bedding  and  called  for  water  to  quench 
my  burning  thirst  and  alleviate  the  pain  in  my  eyes  and 
face.  Having  told  the  rest  of  the  company  at  camp  of 


HAVING  A  CIRCUS  BY  HIMSELF.  6 1 

my  success  in  killing  game,  they  went  and  dressed  it 
that  night.  By  an  occasional  application  of  cold  water 
to  my  eyes  and  face  I  was  able  to  pass  the  night  with¬ 
out  great  suffering;  for  some  days  my  eyes  pained  me 
considerable.  Having  the  powder  picked  out  of  my 
face,  in  due  time  I  came  out  all  right. 

As  it  was  expected  that  the  carcasses  of  the  slain  elk 
would  attract  bear  to  the  spot,  myself,  with  another  of 
the  party,  went  at  day  break  to  the  spot,  but  Mr.  Bruin 
had  not  yet  found  the  feast.  I  had  a  good  opportunity 
to  kill  some  black  deer,  but  as  we  had  all  the  game  we 
could  manage  for  the  time  being,  we  let  them  go  unmo¬ 
lested. 

In  due  time,  three  of  the  horses  were  laden  with  meat, 
and  we  all  set  out  homeward.  It  is  needless  to  say  the 
trip  was  a  rough  one.  At  one  point  on  our  way  a  huge 
elk,  with  massive  antlers,  passed  just  in  our  rear,  we  let 
him  go  his  way.  Coming  to  the  deer  killed  the  day 
before,  we  found  a  bear  had  been  there  and  devoured  a 
goodly  portion  of  it.  The  hams  and  hide  were  taken 
and  tied  on  to  the  saddle  of  one  of  the  party  who  was 
riding  a  mule.  Stopping  at  noon  to  unpack  the  horses 
that  they  might  feed  and  rest,  quite  an  exciting  incident 
occurred.  The  rope  that  held  the  deer,  hide,  etc.,  on 
to  the  saddle  of  the  mule,  was  loosened,  the  load  slip¬ 
ped  over  on  to  his  under  side,  in  a  moment  he  lit  out, 
as  shot  from  a  gun,  over  rocks  and  fallen  timber,  every 
leap  he  made  he  kicked,  as  only  a  mule  can  kick,  the 
dangling  load,  pell-mell  he  went  crashing  through  the 
dead  timber.  The  animal  had  a  regular  circus,  gotten 
up  in  hasty  style,  which  to  the  spectators  was  as  diver- 


62  i  ‘NEVER  DONE  A  TRICK  IN  MY  LIFE.’* 

ting  as  it  was  ludicrous.  The  final  of  the  drama  was  a 
broken  girth  and  complete  wreck  of  the  saddle,  and  a 
mass  of  jelly  meat,  not  to  say  anything  of  an  almost 
featherless  grouse  that  hung  to  the  saddle  tree.  The 
halter  rope  became  entangled  in  the  timber,  and  when 
the  mule  was  found  he  was  standing  as  docile  as  a  don¬ 
key  and  as  innocent  looking  as  a  lamb,  as  much  as  to 
say:  ‘‘I  never  done  a  reckless  trick  in  my  life.” 

After  dinner,  and  the  process  of  re-packing  the  horses 
was  over,  we  proceeded  on;  presently  a  herd  of  black 
deer  was  run  into,  the  temptation  was  to  strong  for  the 
Nimrods;  one  was  killed  outright,  and  another  badly 
wounded.  The  one  killed  was  a  very  large  one;  would 
net  probably  200  pounds;  after  dressing  it  we  left  it  on 
the  point  of  a  rocky  cliff,  some  of  the  party  expecting 
to  go  and  take  it  home  next  day.  Soon  after  getting 
“out  of  the  woods,”  and  climbing  to  some  barren  ridges 
it  began  snowing  and  storming,  however  we  got  into  the 
“ranches”  a  little  after  night,  tired  and  quite  unwell, 
but  a  good  fire,  supper,  and  night’s  rest,  set  us  squarely 
on  our  feet  again,  ready  for  another  start,  this  time  into 
North  Park  for  a  four  or  five  days  hunt,  prospecting 
tour  and  pleasure  trip. 

Next  morning  we  began  preparations  for  the  contem¬ 
plated  trip.  This  time  we  packed  our  “traps”  in  a 
wagon.  Our  party  consisted  of  L.  L.  Wagoner  and 
wife,  Joseph  J.  Wagoner,  Samuel  Foutz  and  ye  Editor. 
The  two  young  men  mentioned  came  across  the  plains 
during  the  summer  in  a  “Prairie  Schooner.”  An  account 
of  their  ramblings  will  most  likely  be  another  valuable 
acquisition  to  American  literature.  We  called  them  the 


THE  COW  BOY.  (62) 


THE  “JOLLY  ROVERS”.  63 

“Jolly  Rovers,”  and  the  name  is  no  misnomer.  Their 
prime  object  in  accompanying  us  was  to  engage  in  trap¬ 
ping  for  beaver;  they  had  about  three  dozen  traps  with 
them.  All  ready  about  noon,  so  we  set  “sail”  in  an 
eastern  direction  with  fair  weather.  A  short  distance 
brought  us  to  where  the  stock  men  were  having  a  gen¬ 
eral  “round  up”  of  cattle;  quite  a  large  number  of  fat 
bovines  were  already  on  hand  and  other  squads  were 
being  driven  in  from  different  directions.  The  wagons 
containing  the  “grub”  and  bedding  were  “corralled”  and 
a  number  of  tents  were  up  and  preparations  for  dinner 
were  in  progress.  The  “cow  boys”  who,  by  the  way, 
are  minus  horns!  were  galloping  to  and  fro,  seemingly 
eager  for  the  fray  of  “cutting  out”  the  cattle  belonging 
to  the  different  owners.  The  appearance  of  those 
“boys”  (?)  are  quite  novel.  Broad-brimmed  white  hats, 
breeches  of  leather,  buckskin,  or  hide  of  some  kind 
with  the  hair  on,  belt,  heavy  spurs,  lariat  and  a  heavy 
saddle  make  up  some  of  the  accompaniments  of  a  “cow 
boy.”  As  we  passed  on,  our  mind  reverted  back  to  the 
time,  some  years  ago,  when  we  (I)  had  a  short  exper¬ 
ience  as  a  stock  ranger  on  the  broad  wild  plains. 

Four  miles  drive  brought  us  to  Calf  Creek;  a  few 
stock  rangers  are  located  here.  Two  miles  further  on 
we  came  to  Cow  Creek;  six  miles  further  we  crossed  the 
bottoms  of  Grand  Encampment.  We  were  following 
an  old  Indian  trail  made  years  ago  by  the  Indians  in 
traveling  to  and  fro  from  the  Rocky  mountains  to  the 
territory  bordering  on  the  Pacific  coast.  They  used  to 
camp  on  this  creek  in  large  numbers,  hence  the  name. 
Along  our  route  antelopes  were  seen  here  and  there; 


64  ANTELOPES  BV  THE  HUNDRED 

just  before  night  one  of  the  party  rode  ahead  (we  had  a 
saddle  horse  along)  and  prospected  for  game  for  our 
supper  and  breakfast.  He  was  successful  in  killing  two 
fine  antelopes  and  wounding  another  with  one  shot.  The 
two  4  ‘Jolly  Rovers”  were  detailed  to  bring  in  the  hides 
and  what  meat  was  necessary.  When  they  got  to  camp, 
six  miles  further,  on  Indian  Creek, it  was  after  night;  we 
had  a  good  fire  burning  and  supper  prepared  with  the 
exception  of  some  meat.  It  was  a  beautiful  eve,  the 
air  was  bracing,  and  there  in  the  solitude  of  our  sur¬ 
roundings  far  from  human  habitation  we  really  enjoyed 
ourselves;  time  passed  pleasantly.  We  made  our  bed 
before  the  fire  and  there,  with  no  shelter  over  us  but  the 
wide  canopy  of  heaven,  we  reposed  in  sweet  slumber. 
While  preparations  for  breakfast  were  going  on,  a  herd 
of  antelopes  was  noticed  quietly  grazing  not  far  off. 
The  temptation  to  give  them  a  morning  salute  was  great, 
but  as  we  could  not  take  care  of  more  meat  we  let  them 
quietly  alone.  It  is  contrary  to  law  in  the  territory  of 
Wyoming  to  kill  more  game  than  can  be  utilized.  After 
starting  on  our  journey  we  found  antelopes  were  plenty 
all  around.  We  asked  liberty  of  the  rest  of  our  party 
to  let  me  kill  every  one  hundreth  one  we  saw.  It  was 
not  long  until  we  had  counted  the  first  one  hundred  and 
they  seemed  to  be  getting  more  plenty,  so  we  desisted 
from  our  purpose  as  the  probability  was  we  would  soon 
have  a  big  job  on  our  hands.  Large  herds  were  noticed 
here  and  there;  sometimes  as  many  as  one  hundred  or 
more  together. 

Four  miles  from  Indian  creek  we  came  to  Beaver 
creek.  The  indications  of  beaver  here  were  good;  our 


BRANDING  THE  PONIES.  65 

trappers  had  a  desire  to  tarry  here,  but  we  passed  on 
ten  miles  further  to  Big  creek,  where  we  camped  for 
dinner  near  a  stock  ranch  belonging  to  one  of  the 
largest  stock  owners  in  the  territory,  a  Mr.  Hunter.  The 
hay  bottoms  are  extensive,  and  he  has  an  enclosure  of 
about  25,000  acres  all  in  one  field.  He  probably  has  as 
many  head  of  cattle  as  he  has  acres  inclosed.  Some  of 
his  stock  ranges  outside  his  inclosure.  At  a  corral  a 
number  of  persons  were  engaged  branding  a  herd  of 
something  like  one  hundred  Texas  ponies  that  had  been 
driven  up  from  that  Southern  region.  They  were  poor 
specimens  of  the  horse  kind.  Having  dined,  we  went 
on  some  five  miles,  when  we  turned  abruptly  to  the  south, 
and  entered  the  mountains  or  foot  hills.  Before  this  we 
were  traveling  parallel  with  the  mountain  range  along 
the  valley,  crossing  the  various  streams  that  course  their 
way  out  of  the  mountain  gorges  into  the  North  Platte 
river,  which  here  runs  a  north-westernly  course.  Cross¬ 
ing  a  high  ridge,  we  descended  into  a  beautiful  park,  and 
after  traveling  some  miles  we  pass  through  a  gap  into  a 
much  larger  park,  a  part  of  North  Park,  the  main  part 
of  North  Park  being  yet  east  of  us.  At  a  point  of  tim¬ 
ber  extending  down  into  the  park,  and  near  Big  creek, 
we  camped  for  the  night,  and,  as  on  the  previous  night, 
we  built  up  a  huge  fire,  and  felt  at  home,  as  much  so  as 
it  is  possible  in  camp  life. 

Our  bed  was  made  under  the  spreading  branches  of  a 
pine  tree,  where  we  passed  a  comfortable  night.  Aris¬ 
ing  early,  we  soon  had  a  roaring  log  fire  under  way. 
Being  short  of  meat — having  given  away  some  during 
the  previous  day — two  of  our  party  set  out  to  kill  some 


66 


ON  A  PROSPECTING  TOUR. 


game.  After  a  short  tramp  one  of  our  Nimrods  espied 
a  band  of  elk  quietly  feeding  on  the  prairie  near  a  point 
of  timber.  His  opportunity  to  get  a  good  shot  at  them 
was  favorable,  but  ere  he  got  near  enough  the  other  had 
come  across  a  band  of  antelope,  and  his  firing  at  them 
caused  the  elk  to  make  a  hasty  retreat,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  the  one  who  was  after  them.  Several  of  the 
antelope  were  wounded,  one  of  which  left  the  band  and 
took  a  circuit  around  in  such  a  way  as  to  near  our  camp. 
The  dog  was  put  after  it,  and  those  at  camp  had  a  chance 
to  send  a  few  balls  at  it.  The  race  was  a  lively  one,  and 
not  until  it  had  ran  nearly  a  mile  was  it  captured.  Our 
shooting  attracted  the  attention  of  the  leader  of  a  hunt¬ 
ing  party  who  had  lain  out  just  across  a  ridge  from  us. 
He  soon  made  his  appearance  in  our  camp,  tired  and 
hungry,  saying  he  had  been  without  food  for  near  two 
days.  He  hailed  from  Denver,  and  had  got  separated 
from  his  party,  which,  luckily  for  him,  were  camped  a 
short  distance  above  us.  Our  breakfast  being  over, 
some  of  the  party  went  prospecting,  in  order  to  see 
what  the  chances  were  for  trapping  beaver.  On  coming 
back  they  reported  prospects  not  encouraging.  We  then 
moved  our  camp  several  miles  further  west,  from  which 
point  the  editor  and  Mr.  Wagoner’s  son  set  out  pros¬ 
pecting  for  the  precious  metals.  The  indications  were 
favorable  as  respects  the  geological  formations.  Some 
mineral-bearing  leads  were  discovered,  but  as  to  them 
proving  to  be  veritable  bonanzas,  the  future  must  de¬ 
cide.  The  night  was  spent  as  usual,  by  our  camp-fire, 
sleeping  under  the  wide  canopy  of  the  heavens. 

Next  morning,  part  of  the  party  went  out  hunting 


HE  “BIT  THE  DUST. 


67 

game  while  we  were  out  as  the  day  before,  hunting  for 
what  the  deep  mines  bring.  After  noon  we  “packed  our 
traps”  as  the  saying  is,  for  “pastures  new;”  while  the 
team  went  on  a  circuitous  route,  we  footed  it  across  a 
mountain  ridge,  through  fallen  timber,  and  down  steep 
defiles,  finding  our  party  awaiting  us  at  the  ford  of  Big 
creek.  Our  route  lay  across  another  mountain;  arriving 
on  the  opposite  side,  we  now  set  out  across  a  broad  ex¬ 
panse  of  plains  covered  with  sage  brush;  here  and  there, 
antelope  and  black  deer  roamed  at  will.  Desirous  of 
reaching  the  banks  of  the  North  Platte  river  before 
night,  we  made  but  little  effort  to  “take  in”  any  game. 
However,  there  was  one  chance  we  could  not  resist.  We 
noticed  a  very  fine,  large  antelope  coming  toward  us.  I 
planned  his  capture.  Bidding  one  of  our  “jolly  rovers” 
to  lie  down  among  the  sage  brush,  we  drove  hastily  on 
far  enough  to  cause  the  antelope  to  pass  in  our  rear, 
which  he  aimed  to  do;  but  as  he  stalked  along  with  a 
proud  carriage,  as  though  he  was  ‘  ‘monarch  of  all  he 
surveyed,”  a  shot  as  sudden  as  it  was  unexpected  to  Mr. 
Antelope  caused  him  to  “bite  the  dust,”  with  a  broken 
neck.  We  hastily  drove  back,  dressed  the  carcass,  and 
took  it  along,  and  the  hams  of  this  same  antelope  were 
a  rare  treat,  at  the  tables  of  “Our  Home,”  and  his 
beautiful  antlers  hang  in  the  office.  At  night  we  camp¬ 
ed  on  the  banks  of  the  Platte.  Early  next  morning,  we 
parted  from  our  “jolly  rovers;”  they  were  to  remain  and 
take  care  of  the  camp  while  Mr.  Wagoner  took  us  to 
the  nearest  railroad  point.  The  “boys”  anticipated  a 
pleasant  time,  as  one  of  them  had  espied  some  very  fine 
fish  in  the  river,  and  the  other’s  eyes  had  caught  a 


68 


HOME  AGAIN. 


glimpse  of  a  young  maiden  at  a  stock-ranch  hard  by. 
Soon  after  crossing  and  leaving  the  Platte,  we  passed 
through  a  gap  and  entered  into  North  Park  proper.  The 
high  mountain  ranges  seemed  to  run  in  a  circle  around 
a  miniature  world.  The  scenery  was  beautiful  to  behold; 
the  distance  to  the  south  boundry  of  the  park,  from 
where  we  passed  through,  was  some  fifty  or  sixty  miles; 
the  plain  in  the  park  is  almost  level,  covered  with  ex¬ 
cellent  grass,  and  thousands  of  cattle  and  horses  feed 
thereon.  We  made  a  short  stop  at  the  soda  springs, 
which  some  day  will  doubtless  be  a  great  place  of  resort. 
It  was  near  sundown  when  we  crossed  the  Laramie 
river,  and  in  a  4 ‘draw,”  between  some  rugged  red  hills, 
by  a  little  rivulet  of  water,  we  camped  for  the  night.  It 
was  our  last  night  out  in  the  wilds  of  Wyoming  Terri¬ 
tory. 

Next  morning  we  left  the  foot-hills  and  coursed  our 
way  across  the  plains;  we  could  see  the  smoke  from 
passing  trains  on  the  U.  P.  railroad  many  miles  away. 
These  Laramie  Plains,  which  we  now  were  crossing,  are 
here  and  there  dotted  over  with  stock  ranches.  Sheep¬ 
raising  seems  to  be  the  leading  industry,  and  is  a  pro¬ 
fitable  business.  At  night  we  drove  into  the  little  town 
of  Tie  Siding,  eight  miles  west  of  Sherman,  which  is 
the  highest  railroad  point  on  the  U.  P.  R.  R.  Once 
more  we  passed  a  night  indoors,  and  next  day,  at  1 1 
o’clock,  we  were  on  the  rail  homeward  bound.  At  night, 
we  arrived  at  Longmont,  fueling  that  our  trip  had  done 
us  good,  notwithstanding  our  disappointment  in  not  get¬ 
ting  the  bear  we  had  pictured  out  in  our  imagination  we 
would  kill. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EDITORIAL  EXCURSION. 

The  desire  to  flee  from  the  plains  to  the  mountains 
during  the  “heated  term”  is  something  of  a  contagious 
nature;  therefore  excursions  are  frequent,  and  everybody 
wants  to  spead  a  few  days,  at  least,  in  the  mountains 
away  from  the  daily  routine  of  duty.  Of  course  the 
newspaper  men  of  Colorado  are  not  an  exception  to  this 
general  desire;  they  as  much  as  any  other  class  need  a 
change  of  thought,  and  recreation  from  the  labors  and 
confinement  incident  to  the  editorial  sanctum.  In  con. 
sideration  of  the  idea  newspaper  men  live  without  money, 
our  railroads  offer  free  transportation  for  the  journalistic 
brains  of  the  state  at  least  once  a  year.  Yes,  as  it  was 
a  free  excursion  for  the  members  of  the  State  Press 
Association,  their  wives,  mothers  or  sweethearts,  we,  the 
editor  of  the  “Home  Mirror”  gladly  accepted  the  invita¬ 
tion  so  generously  offered.  Through  the  kindness  of  Mr. 
A.  A.  Egbert  of  the  Colorado  Central  railroad,  a  special 
train  was  tendered  our  party  of  fifty  or  more  for  a  run 
from  Denver  up  Clear  Creek  canon.  Thursday  morning, 
July  15,  at  8  o’clock,  we  left  the  Denver  depot  and  soon  we 
were  rushing  along  on  our  way  mountainward.  Beauti¬ 
ful  farms  and  handsome  residences  greeted  us  on  either 
side,  the  busy  town  of  Golden  was  reached,  then  a  drive 
into  the  mouth  of  the  yawning  canon,  and  thence  up  the 
serpentine  narrow  gauge  that  wends  its  way  along  the 
bank  of  the  surging  stream.  Towering  cliffs  loomed  up 
for  thousands  of  feet;  to  say  the  scenery  was  grand, 

(69) 


7o 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  GOVERNOR. 


sublime  and  terrible  gives  but  a  faint  pen  picture  of 
what  met  our  gaze,  look  which  way  we  would.  Black 
Hawk  was  reached;  thence  onward  the  iron  horse  took 
us  over  and  above  the  housetops  up  the  steep  mountain 
side,  over  frightful  looking  trustle  bridges,  and  at  Cen¬ 
tral  City  we  stepped  once  more  upon  terra-firma,  and 
the  party  had  an  hour  to  promenade  about  the  city,  visit 
some  of  the  mines,  stamp  mills,  and  take  a  walk  down 
the  gulch  through  Black  Hawk  to  the  depot  of  the  latter 
town.  While  waiting  for  the  train,  a  furious  hail  storm 
raged  for  some  minutes.  We  were  soon  on  our  way  for 
Idaho  Springs,  where  a  sumptuous  dinner  awaited  us  at 
the  Beebee  House,  and  to  which  the  hungry  party  did 
ample  justice. 

Idaho  Springs  is  indeed  a  delightful  resort,  nestling 
among  the  grand  awe-inspiring  mountains.  After  a 
ramble  through  the  town  and  to  the  baths  a  messenger 
informed  us  that  we  were  cordially  invited  to  call  upon 
Gov.  Bryan  at  his  delightful  residence.  It  is  needless  to 
say  the  party  enjoyed  the  visit  hugely.  No  one  could 
give  a  more  kind  and  pleasant  reception  than  we  had  at 
the  hands  of  the  Governor,  his  affable  wife,  beautiful 
and  talented  daughter  and  gentlemanly  son.  Coffee  and 
ice  cream  were  served  and  partaken  of  with  a  relish. 

At  the  call  of  the  engine’s  whistle  we  reluctantly  took 
leave  of  our  new  made  friends  and  were  off  for  George¬ 
town.  When  near  the  city  our  train  encountered  a 
washout — a  water  spout  had  let  down  a  deluge  of  water, 
cutting  a  ravine  down  the  steep  mountain  side  and  carry¬ 
ing  huge  boulders,  tons  of  gravel  and  stones  on  to  the  track 
completely  hiding  it  from  view.  Twenty  stalwart  hands 


CLEARING  THE  TRACK.  7 1 

went  to  work  with  a  will.  It  was  near  night  when  we 
passed  and  went  on  to  Georgetown,  where  we  tarried 
only  a  few  minutes,  and  then  started  for  Denver,  where 
we  arrived  about  midnight. 

Next  morning  found  us  at  the  depot  again  r£ady  to 
take  the  train.  The  South  Park  Company  had  tendered 
the  party  a  free  ride  to  Leadville,  a  special  bran-new, 
superb  car  was  appropriated  for  our  use.  Mr.  Ady,  the 
general  agent,  accompanied  us.  To  him  the  party  was 
under  many  obligations  for  his  untiring  attentions  to  our 
comfort.  Up  the  South  Platte  valley  we  wended  our 
way,  passing  a  number  of  fine  farms,  where  good  crops 
of  wheat  and  corn  were  growing.  The  Grand  Canon 
was  reached — what  magnificent  scenery!  No  pen  can 
describe  it,  no  brush  paint  it,  no  tongue  can  tell  of  the 
wonders  that  met  our  astonished  gaze.  One  must  see  it 
in  order  to  fully  comprehend  the  marvelous  works  of  the 
Creator  standing  out  here  in  such  bold  relief.  Grant 
was  reached,  and  oh!  what  a  dinner  there  amidst  the 
mountains.  Trout  in  abundance,  fresh  from  the  cold 
crystal  stream,  strawberries  and  cream,  and  a  number  of 
other  delicacies  belonged  to  the  bill  of  fare.  Onward 
over  the  mountains  and  along  the  verge  of  precipices  our 
train  wended  its  way.  South  Park  was  reached,  across 
its  meadows  we  thundered  along,  and  ere  the  sun  had  set 
behind  the  snow-capped  mountains  we  shot  out  into  the 
Arkansas  valley,  crossed  the  river,  and  in  due  time 
reached  Buena  Vista.  A  telegram  from  Gov.  Evans  of 
the  South  Park  R.  R. ,  bid  us  stop  at  the  Lake  Hotel  for 
supper,  lodging  and  breakfast  at  his  expense — as  his 


72 


POLICE  DEFYING  A  MOB. 


guests.  His  hospitalities  were  accepted,  and  we  fared 
sumptuously. 

From  the  cupola  of  the  hotel  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the 
valley,  town,  and  magnificent  scenery  surrounding  it. 
Buena  Vista  is  a  large  sized  town,  although  not  yet  a 
year  old;  some  rich  mines  are  in  close  proximity.  The 
noted  Cottonwood  hot  springs  are  near  ;  our  party  had 
an  invitation  to  visit  them  but  we  were  sorry  that  time 
would  not  admit  of  it. 

Next  morning,  by  special  train,  we  were  taken  40  miles 
further  up  the  Arkansas  valley  to  Malta,  where  we  found 
coaches  waiting  to  take  us  three  or  four  miles  “over 
the  way”  to  Leadville.  Soon  we  were  registered  at  the 
Clarendon  Hotel,  in  that  magic  city  of  labor,  wealth, 
strife  and  iniquity.  We  met  an  old  friend,  took  a  walk 
through  the  city,  returning  from  the  suburbs — which,  by 
the  way,  consists  of  plank  shanties,  built  among  a  thick' 
batallion  of  high  stumps — and  having  gotten  into  the 
crowd  that  lined  the  sidewalks  we  noticed  quite  a  com¬ 
motion  down  the  street  and  an  express  wagon  coming  at 
a  rapid  rate.  A  half  dozen  police  were  in  the  wagon 
holding  at  arm’s  length  their  revolvers  ready  cocked. 
They  had  a  prisoner  with  them,  and  on  arriving  at  the 
jail,  near  where  I  stood,  they  hustled  him  in  through  the 
doors  without  much  ceremony.  On  looking  down  the 
street  we  noticed  a  crowd  of  people  that  seemed  to  block 
up  the  entire  street.  The  crowd  was  coming  like  an 
avalanche.  On  they  came.  One  man  passed  by  with  a 
coil  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet  of  rope.  His  teeth  were  set, 
and  determination  was  depicted  on  his  countenance. 
Someone  asked  what  he  was  going  to  do.  “Hang  that 


GUARDING  THE  JAIL. 


73 


man,”  said  he  with  an  oath.  But  they  were  too  late,  the 
prisoner  was  beyond  their  grasp.  An  immense  crowd 
surrounded  the  jail,  and  the  excitement  ran  high.  It 
seems  the  man  had  defied  arrest  and  had  shot  three 
policemen,  one  of  whom  died  the  next  morning. 

Met  Professor  D.  McDonald,  a  noted  phrenologist  of 
San  Francisco,  Cal.,  whose  acquaintance  we  had  formed 
some  years  ago.  By  his  invitation,  and  the  kind  offer  of 
a  free  ticket,  we  attended  at  the  Congregational  church, 
at  night,  a  series  of  readings  and  recitations  by  Prof. 
Plummer. 

On  our  way  to  the  hotel  we  noticed  they  had  a  large 
fire  in  the  jail  yard  and  a  strong  guard  of  men  present, 
some  of  whom  were  on  the  roof  of  the  jail.  At  3  o’clock 
we  were  up  and  making  arrangments  to  leave  on  the 
early  train.  The  weather  was  cold,  a  fire  which  felt 
comfortable,  was  kept  burning  in  the  stove  all  night. 
We  had  on  a  heavy  overcoat,  yet  we  became  cold  in 
riding  to  the  train.  Others  may  applaud  to  the  skies  the 
attractions  of  the  carbonate  camp,  as  for  us  we  have  no 
desire  to  return;  it  certainly,  in  some  respects,  is  the 
most  remarkable  city  in  the  world.  Such  a  mingling  of 
all  classes  of  society  and  such  a  large  proportion  of  the 
lower  classes  can  probably  nowhere  else  be  found.  The 
slums  of  iniquity  invite  in  bolder  terms  and  drag  human¬ 
ity  to  a  lower  level  than  any  other  place  to  be  found  on 
the  wide  earth.  It  is  true  there  are  some  good  people, 
those  people  of  refinement  and  high  morals,  but  being  in 
the  minority  they  can  do  but  little  to  check  the  seething 
whirl  of  the  great  malstrom  of  debauchery  and  woe. 

As  the  morning  began  to  dawn  towards  the  first  day  of 


74 


AGREED  TO  ACCEPT. 


the  week  our  train  pulled  out,  and  snugly  ensconsed  in 
one  of  those  reclining  chairs  we  soon  were  off  in  the 
land  of  dreams.  Arriving  at  Buena  Vista,  breakfast  was 
announced,  again  aboard  the  train  we  were  off  wending 
our  way  down  the  valley  of  the  Arkansas  over  the  Den¬ 
ver  &  Rio  Grand  Railroad  which  had  given  us  the  offer  of 
a  free  ride  to  Denver.  Just  before  we  came  to  the 
Grand  Canon  of  the  Arkansas  an  observation  car  was 
attached  in  which  we  took  seats.  Having  seen  the 
grand  scenery  of  the  Platt  and  Clear  Creek  Canons  we 
were  somewhat  prepared  for  what  now  awaited  us,  but 
we  must  acknowledge  we  were  astonished,  we  had  never 
seen  anything  to  equal  the  grandeur  of  this  canon  gorge. 
In  some  places  the  chasm  is  but  a  narrow  rent  in  the 
rocks  which  rise  up  perpendicular  for  thousands  of  feet; 
one  place  iron  beams  jut  across  from  wall  to  wall  and 
an  iron  trussel  hangs  beneath  on  which  the  road  track  is 
built,  and  the  river  runs  beneath  it;  there  was  not  room 
for  the  road  to  run  beside  the  river.  Emerging  from  the 
canon  we  soon  were  in  Canon  City,  which  is  a  beautiful 
town.  The  State  penitentiary  is  located  here.  Some 
of  the  finest  fruit  orchards  in  the  State  are  to  be  found 
near  at  hand.  We  were  favorably  impressed  with  this 
town,  its  beautiful  location  and  agricultural  facilities. 

We  arrived  at  Pueblo  for  dinner  and  there  our  com¬ 
mander-in-chief  received  a  telegram  from  F.  C.  Nims, 
manager  of  the  Denver  &  Rio  Grand  railroad,  to  take 
supper  with  him  at  Manitou  as  his  guests.  It  was 
agreed  to  accept.  On  our  arrival  at  Colorado  Springs 
we  were  offered  free  transportation  to  Manitou,  six  miles. 
The  magnificent  hotel  was  full  of  guests;  General  Grant 


RECEPTION  BY  GEN.  GRANT. 


75 


and  party  were  stopping  there  at  the  time .  As  guests 
of  Mr.  Nims  and  his  accomplished  wife  we  had  a  superb 
supper,  after  which,  a  reception  by  General  Grant,  Mrs. 
Grant  and  Mrs.  Fred  Grant.  The  reception  was  in  the 
gorgeously  furnished  parlors.  The  cordial  manner  in 
which  all  were  received  and  the  social  disposition  of  the 
distinguished  guests,  made  all  feel  easy,  and  the  occasion 
was  one  of  an  enjoyable  nature. 

A  drive  through  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  by  moonlight 
was  the  next  thing  on  the  programme.  Our  generous 
host  met  the  emergency  at  once  by  providing  a  turn  out 
of  six  carriages  and  drivers.  About  1 1  o’clock  at  night 
we  left  the  hotel,  and  after  a  drive  to  the  soda  springs 
we  sat  out  for  the  far  famed  Garden.  Arriving  at  the 
gate  or  entrance,  which  is  between  towering  cliffs,  the 
whole  party  halted,  and  in  squads  set  out  to  ramble  as 
they  choose;  some  of  the  more  agile,  by  a  circuitous 
route,  made  the  ascent  of  one  of  the  large  cliffs  near  the 
gateway.  Indulging  in  vocal  music,  their  voices  rang 
out  in  a  peculiar  manner.  After  probably  an  hours  delay 
all  were  again  in  their  seats,  and  ready  for  new  scenes 
and  a  drive  up  Glen  Eyre,  and  thence  to  Colorado 
Springs.  We  had  traveled  about  ten  miles  from  the 
time  we  left  Manitou;  rooms  at  the  hotel  could  not  be 
had,  all  full,  so  we  took  possession  of  the  parlor;  lying 
around  on  lounges  and  the  carpet,  the  tired  party  found 
some  rest  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus.  The  train  was  due 
at  an  early  hour,  but  on  going  to  the  depot,  found  there 
would  be  no  train  soon — cause,  a  washout.  About  I 
o’clock  p.  m.  we  were  off  for  Denver,  where  we  arrived 
about  4  p.  m.  Thus  ended  the  excursion  of  the  State 


“enough!  enough! 


76 

Press  Association;  all  seemed  satisfied  and  ready  to  cry 
enough  !  enough  !  Distance  traveled,  over  600  miles. 


PART  II. 


LIFE  AMONG  THE  WILDS  OF  THE  WEST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  author  of  the  following  reminiscences,  J.  C.  Funderburgh,  Esq., 
left  college  in  Ohio  owing  to  poor  health,  and  came  west  to  “rough  it” 
on  the  Plains.  He  was  a  staunch  and  staid  friend  of  the  editor.  We 
together  have  eaten  around  the  same  festal  board  in  the  home,  on  the 
Plains  and  in  the  “Rockies.”  Slept  together  on  the  same  rock,  angled 
for  trout  out  of  the  same  brook,  and  dished  “chuck”  out  of  the  same  pan 
by  the  camp  fire. 

The  winter  of  1874  and  1875,  according  to  the  treaty 
of  1858,  was  the  last  that  the  Sioux  Indians  were  ex¬ 
pected  to  hunt  south  of  the  South  Platte  River.  Conse¬ 
quently  an  unusually  large  number  of  their  best  hunters 
and  tanners  turned  -out  for  the  purpose  of  making  the 
largest  possible  killing  of  buffalo  that  season. 

Julesburg,  on  the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  and  near  the 
great  bend  of  the  South  Platte,  seemed  to  be  the  point 
selected  as  their  basis  of  operations .  Scores  of  them 
began  to  assemble  early  in  September,  and  by  the  first 
of  November  the  green  shores  of  the  broad  Platte  for 
sixty  miles  on  either  side,  were  dotted  with  their  smoked 
canvas  or  leather  made  tepees  from  the  summer’s  killing 
of  elk  or  buffalo.  The  range  of  the  buffalo  changes  as 
the  country  settles  up.  Their  habits,  however,  as  to 

(77) 


PURSUING  A  DESPERADO. 


78 

locality  in  certain  ^seasons  of  the  year  are  fixed  and 
unlike  many  other  migratory  animals  —  they  range  in 
southern  latitudes  during  the  summer  and  in  northern 
latitudes  in  the  winter. 

For  several  years  the  crossing  had  been  in  the  vicinity 
of  Julesburg.  The  year  1874  was  also  the  year  of  the 
grasshopper  raid  on  the  Nebraska  and  Kansas  home¬ 
steaders,  who,  in  order  to  keep  the  “wolf  from  the 
door,”  were  compelled  to  trap,  hunt,  and  kill  buffalo. 

The  water  in  the  streams  is  generally  very  low  late  in 
the  fall,  and  in  many  localities  entirely  dried  up,  so  that' 
the  points  where  water  is  plenty  along  the  trail  the  herds 
travel  going  north  are  wide  apart — fifty  miles  or  more. 
The  first  after  crossing  the  K.  P.  R.  R.,  is  the  Repub¬ 
lican  river  with  a  few  of  its  larger  tributaries,  such  as 
the  Frenchman  and  Stinking-Water,  the  latter  so  named 
by  the  Indians  because  of  the  stench  and  filthiness  of 
the  water,  occasioned  by  the  vast  number  of  buffalo  that 
annually  perish  in  its  boggy  edges.  I  had  occasion  to 
visit  this  stream,  with  its  narrow,  deep  and  treacherous 
channel,  in  1876,  while  pursuing  a  desperado,  in  hope  of 
recovering  some  stolen  property,  and  found  its  swampy 
banks  literally  strewn  with  the  stale  carcasses  and 
bleached  bones  of  wild  animals. 

Whenever  the  advance  herds  of  buffalo  strike  one  of 
these  watering  points  they  feed  around  for  days,  until 
thousands  upon  thousands  flock  in,  when  they  again 
strike  out  across  the  plains  towards  the  next  point — the 
Platte  River,  sixty  to  seventy  miles,  making  the  trip  in 
from  two  to  three  days,  owing  to  the  weather.  When 


WHOLESALE  SLAUGHTER.  79 

cold  and  stormy  the  buffalo,  unlike  others  animals,  in¬ 
variably  face  the  storm. 

When  the  buffalo  made  their  appearance,  in  the  fall  of 
’74,  north  of  the  K.  P.  R.  R.,  the  grasshopper  sufferers 
rallied  en  masse,  fairly  slaying  the  buffalo,  and  to  some 
extent  retarded  the  herds,  and  hauling  great  loads  of 
short  cut  hams  and  thousands  of  pelts  into  Julesburg  for 
shipment  East,  the  meat  to  Sioux  City,  Iowa,  by  car 
loads,  to  be  packed  down  as  salt  beef  for  Indian  sup¬ 
plies,  and  the  dried  hides  to  Kansas  City  and  the  Omaha 
agency  to  be  dressed  for  the  trade.  This  of  course  was 
anything  but  agreeable  to  the  dusky  savage,  and  soon 
engendered  the  bitterest  feeling  of  strife  and  mortal 
hatred  towards  the  home-steader.  My  business  at  Jules¬ 
burg  was  trading  with  the  white  hunters — buying  and 
shipping  their  produce. 

The  squaws  do  all  the  hard  work  among  the  Indians. 
I  never  saw  a  “  buck,>  Indian  dress  or  tan  a  robe  during 
the  entire  season.  The  time  required  to  finish  a  robe 
taken  in  the  green  is  about  one  week,  though  a  good 
worker  can  average  one  daily. 

The  Utes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the  Omahas,  of 
Nebraska,  and  the  Pawnees  of  the  South — mortal  ene¬ 
mies  of  the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes — were  all  out  after 
buffalo,  but  kept  south  of  the  Republican,  and  the  Sioux 
did  not  like  to  venture  south  very  far,  and  therefore 
failed  to  get  buffalo  enough  to  keep  their  squaws  at 
work;  consequently  they  made  application  to  those  of 
us  dealing  in  robe-hires  to  furnish  them  with  pelts  to  tan 
on  the  halves,  some  for  cash  and  others  in  trade.  I  con¬ 
cluded  to  give  them  a  trial,  and  be  it  said  in  justice  to 


8o 


THIEVING  INDIANS. 


Indian  integrity,  that,  for  the  first  few  weeks,  they  gave 
good  satisfaction,  but  toward  the  close  of  the  season 
they  manifested  great  negligence  and  dishonesty.  Some 
of  them  slipped  off  to  the  agency  without  returning  the 
robes  entrusted  to  them,  setting  up  the  plea  of  original 
ownership.  All  those  who  did  not  happen  to  have  bor¬ 
rowed  property,  were  loth  to  return  to  the  agency  when 
the  government  commanded  them  to  go.  The  Indians, 
when  breaking  camp,  do  not  always  all  start  at  one  time, 
or  the  same  day,  but  string  out  two  or  three  day’s  journey 
apart,  usually  in  squads  of  family-relationship.  In  one 
instance  a  certain  lodge  having  robes  of  mine  were  about 
to  pull  out  clandestinely  one  fine  morning,  and  would 
have  escaped  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely  information 
of  the  fact  by  a  good  young  Indian  before  daylight  the 
same  morning.  Of  course  his  expected  reward  was  not 
wrongly  anticipatedr 

I  hastened  down  to  the  Indian  village  on  Lodge  Pole 
creek,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  distant,  just  in  the  nick 
of  time  to  save  my  six  robes,  for  some  of  them  had 
already  started;  the  last  of  the  ponies  were  being  packed. 
My  sudden  appearance  upon  the  scene  was  not  a  little 
surprise  to  them.  I  took  a  position  upon  a  slight  emi¬ 
nence  near  by,  resting  my  arms  on  my  gun,  awaiting 
their  final  decision.  A  momentary  lull  in  camp  ensued; 
not  a  word  was  spoken,  but  much  indicated.  There  were 
two  ‘ ‘bucks,”  four  squaws  and  a  dozen  or  so  little  urchins 
including  five  pappooses.  After  a  few  moments  hesita¬ 
tion  two  of  the  squaws  began  to  unstrap  my  robes  and 
threw  them  towards  me,  then  mounting  their  ponies, 
they  struck  out  across  the  pathless  prairie  for  the  North 


“  WALK-A-pO-MENZ  !” 


8l 


Platte  River,  whooping  and  yelling  “Walk-a-po-menz, 
walk-a-po-menz!”  having  reference  to  the  agency,  which 
meant  the  "place  or  land  of  gifts,  since  it  is  there  they 
get  all  their  presents  and  general  supplies,  including 
powder  and  lead  for  the  best  firearms  manufactured, 
which  are  so  skillfully  handled  whenever  a  few  white 
men’s  scalps  are  wanted,  or  their  morbid  taste  for  human 
gore  satiated,  and  with  which  most  all  the  horrible  mas¬ 
sacres  are  perpetrated. 

After  gathering  in  most  all  my  robes  from  the  Indians 
in  the  vicinity  of  Julesburg,  I  took  the  train  for  Lodge 
Pole,  1 8  miles  west,  to  get  what  robes  I  had  out  among 
the  1,200  redskins  encamped  there. 

The  train  for  Lodge  Pole  left  Julesburg  about  8  o’clock 
in  the  evening.  Three  Indians — two  adults  and  one  boy 
— that  had  come  down  from  Lodge  Pole  the  day  pre¬ 
vious,  were  fellow  passengers  on  the  same  train.  One 
of  these,  whose  name  is  Little  Bear,  like  old  Naomin  of 
school-book  fame,  had  many  a  time  eaten  salt  in  my 
dugout, — in  fact,  for  two  consecutive  weeks  he  never 
missed  a  meal.  Coming  two  miles  for  breafast  at  early 
break  of  day,  through  the  frosty  air  of  February,  was 
evidence  of  no  slight  attachment  to  something.  Indeed, 
I  really  enjoyed  his  company,  being  smart  and  far  above 
the  average  intelligence.  He  having  several  times  been 
to  Washington  City  to  visit  the  Great  Father,  had  learned 
from  observation  many  things,  that  in  speaking  of  them 
seemed  to  elate  his  very  being.  He  could  speak  a  few 
words  of  English,  which  he  thought  was  perfection. 
Please  remember  this  Indian,  for  I  shall  have  him  up 


82  AT  THE  INDIAN  VILLAGE. 

again  in  some  future  chapter  as  the  very  embodiment  of 
deviltry. 

The  train  having  passed  Tie-siding,  was  rounding  the 
last  curve  on  an  up  grade  less  than  a  mile  from  our 
station.  We  took  advantage  of  the  slow  motion  by 
stepping  off,  which  placed  us  much  nearer  the  Indian 
village  than  to  have  gone  to  the  station.  The  dusky 
trio  struck  out  instanter  for  the  camp  fires.  I  followed 
after.  In  twenty  minutes  we  were  in  the  midst  of  two 
thousand  aborigines.  Knowing  that  there  were  two 
white  traders  in  the  village — Palledy  and  Buff — the  latter 
being  married  to  a  squaw,  has  three  very  pretty  little 
girls,  and  live  with  the  tribe — I  made  inquiry  for  “wa- 
seeche”  (white  man)  tepee,  and  was  directed  to  the  lodge 
in  which  dwelt  Leon  Palledy,  who  seemed  glad  to  have 
an  old  acquaintance  call,  with  whom  he  could  pass  the 
hours  more  pleasantly  than  with  his  copper  colored  asso¬ 
ciates. 

There  are  a  great  many  of  the  Sioux  that  are  quite 
wealthy  in  blankets,  robes  and  ponies,  and  have  two  or 
three  tents,  and  by  this  convenience  secure,  as  a  general 
thing,  the  honor  of  entertaining  as  guests  the  traders  and 
white  visitors  among  them. 

The  trader  is  allotted  the  largest  tent,  or  tepee,  in 
which  to  store  his  goods,  and  is  expected  to  furnish  his 
landlord’s  household  with  all  the  sugar,  coffee,  flour  and 
bacon  required  for  each  meal;  while  his  honor  supplies 
the  antelope,  deer,  buffalo,  and  occasionally  (with  them 
the  daintiest  of  all  dishes)  a  tenderly  boiled  fat  dog. 
The  trader’s  lodge  is  also  made  the  exclusive  home  of 
the  landlord  and  his  favorite  squaw,  who  does  the  cook- 


THE  PIPE  OF  PEACE  WAS  SMOKED.  83 

ing.  The  other  immediate  members  of  the  family  are 
but  occasional  visitors;  while  those  in  lineage  more  dis¬ 
tant  are  seldom  absent,  especially  at  wa-coll-opy  (coffee) 
time,  when  there  is  anything  to  eat  on  hand. 

I  had  no  sooner  entered  the  lodge  when  the  old  squaw 
and  her  buxom  assistant  of  eighteen  summers  commenced 
the  preparation  of  supper,  and  were  not  long  in  dishing 
out  with  sharp  sticks  the  blood-rare  meat,  (no  dog),  and 
in  small  tin  cups,  lye-strong  coffee.  After  supper  the 
pipe  of  peace  was  smoked.  The  landlord,  Lone  Wolf, 
who  sat  on  the  right  of  the  entrance  to  the  lodge,  form¬ 
ing  the  head  of  the  circle,  took  from  a  large  buckskin 
sack,  a  square  board,  perhaps  a  foot  in  diameter,  placed 
it  before  him  and  emptying  upon  it  the  contents  of  a 
small  pouch  taken  from  the  large  sack  —  after  mixing 
with  these  scrapings  of  red  willow  roots  and  a  small  pro-  * 
portion  of  genuine  tobacco — proceeded  to  pulverize  it 
thoroughly.  After  which  the  big,  red  stone  pipe,  with 
an  uncouth  stem  about  two  feet  long,  was  filled  to  the 
brim  with  the  so-called  “kinnikinie.”  This  style  of  pipe 
is  peculiar  to  the  Indians  of  the  Nothwest.  The  material 
is  obtained  from  the  Vermillion  quarries  on  the  Missouri 
river.  Once  the  big  Vermillion  loaded,  it  is  handed  di¬ 
rectly  across  to  the  last  man  in  the  circle  at  the  left  of 
the  entrance,  who  places  the  stem  to  his  mouth  while 
the  Indian  on  his  left  strikes  a  match  and  applies  the 
4  ‘pata”  to  the  contents  of  the  bowl.  There  is  consider¬ 
able  system  among  them  in  smoking  the  pipe  of  peace. 
After  two  or  three  good  puffs,  the  last  one  exhaled 
through  the  nasal  passages,  in  appearance  not  unlike  a 
young  Vesuvius,  he  then,  with  the  left  hand,  removes 


84  IN  THE  FAIR  LAND  OF  DREAMS. 

the  pipe  from  his  mouth  and  places  it  in  the  right  hand, 
with  which  it  is  conveyed  to  the  next  Indian  on  the  left; 
and  thus  it  passes  the  rounds.  The  landlord,  treating 
himself  to  a  double  dose,  refills  the  pipe  and  starts  it  on 
its  regular  circuit  again  and  again,  all  the  while  keeping 
up  a  continual  gibbering  relating  to  the  chase,  the  battle, 
the  massacre,  and  to  the  hair-breadth  escapes  and  the 
dangers  averted  generally.  When  the  fire  burnt  low, 
about  midnight,  each  warrior  stretched  himself  and  rolled 
up  in  his  buffalo  robe,  centering  the  feet  towards  the  ex¬ 
piring  embers,  and  uninterruptedly  sported  for  the  re¬ 
mainder  of  the  night  the  happy  huntsman  in  the  fair 
land  of  dreams. 

This  tepee,  like  most  all  Indian  lodges,  had  a  circular 
opening  at  the  top  about  two  feet  in  diameter  for  the 
smoke  to  escape,  and  through  which  for  hours,  from  my 
pallet  of  buffalo  robes,  I  lay  contemplating  the  boundless 
stars  in  the  faultless  blue  above  us  and  the  unseen  myste¬ 
ries  still  beyond.  When  I  woke  up  the  sun  was  high 
in  the  heavens,  and  the  kettle  of  meat  and  boiler  of 
coffee  were  steaming  hot,  ready  for  the  dozen  hungry- 
looking  subjects  for  whom  it  was  prepared.  There  is 
but  little,  if  any,  dressing  and  undressing  among  the 
savages.  A  suit  once  on  is  worn  till  gone.  All  we  had 
to  do  was  to  throw  the  robe  to  one  side  and  sit  up.  A 
little  water  was  handed  us  to  wash  with,  which  was  used 
in  the  regular  way,  very  muc-h  to  the  amusement  of  the 
reds,  for  they  think  it  awkwardness  other  than  to  spew 
it  from  the  mouth  upon  the  hands  in  washing  the  face. 
Breakfast  was  served,  and  just  as  I  was  sipping  a  little 
coffee  an  Indian  appeared  outside  at  the  tepee  door  call- 


SWUNG  OVER  TO  A  VACANT  SEAT.  85 

ing  out,  "Ogalla-ishmea!”  my  Indian  name,  meaning 
Buffalo-coat-man,  because  of  the  buffalo  overcoat  that 
I  wore  through  the  winter.  Of  course  all  eyes  were 
turned  towards  the  pale-face  strangers,  when  Mr.  Pal- 
ledy  remarked  that  some  one  outside  wished  me  to  go 
with  him  for  breakfast.  I  thought  nothing  strange  of 
this,  for  at  other  times  I  had  been  invited  to  partake  of 
a  dozen  different  repasts  at  any  one  meal  J:ime — as  this 
is  their  custom  with  friends  and  strangers,  especially 
those  with  whom  they  have  friendly  dealings — as  well  as 
to  smoke  the  pipe  as  a  token  of  friendship.  I  joined  the 
"Igilacka”  (Indian  boy)  who  was  waiting  for  me  outside 
the  lodge  and  after  winding  my  way  through  the  village 
for  a  few  hundred  yards,  in  compliance  with  his  gesture, 
bowed  myself  through  the  flap  door  into  the  presence  of 
a  jolly  group  of  old  customers,  while  in  the  tanning  busi¬ 
ness  during  the  winter  at  Julesburg.  After  the  familiar 
“pow-wows”  and  the  formal  "how  hows”  in  general,  and 
to  the  landlord  the  distinction  of  a  social  grip,  I  swung 
over  to  the  vacant  seat  in  the  circle.  Meat,  coffee  and 
a  few  crackers  were  served.  A  few  minutes’  talk  by 
signs,  and  a  half  mixture  of  English  and  Sioux  phraseol- 
oly,  exit  white  man,  in  response  to  another  call  by  the 
waiting,  brawny  escort  to  another  feast.  Of  course, 
concerning  myself,  it  could  be  none  other  than  the  mere 
form  of  eating  at  the  various  banquets — perhaps  a  sup  of 
"wacollopy”  and  a  bit  of  "tagaliska”  (beef). 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  met  with  none  save  those  who 
had  returned  all  robes  belonging  to  me.  It  was  drawing 
towards  noon  and  I  now  turned  my  attention  to  some  of 
my  delinquent  customers,  which  soon  revealed  the  fact 


86 


THE  “PAWNEE  KILLER”. 


that  some  of  them  had  traded  my  robes  off;  others  said 
they  had  not  yet  finished  dressing  them,  while  a  few 
rested  their  case  on  the  plea  that  hides  were  no  good 
“seeche”  (meaning  poor  hides).  I  finally  came  to  Three 
Bear’s  lodge,  who  had  five  of  my  robes.  This  is  the  In¬ 
dian  who,  a  few  years  previous,  saved  the  life  of  Gen¬ 
eral  Smith,  by  rushing  up  and  knocking  down  the  two 
savages  who,  standing  on  either  side  of  the  General,  had 
their  carbines  pointed  directy  at  his  heart.  I  succeeded 
in  collecting  two  robes  of  Three  Bear. 

Pawnee  Killer,  the  war  chief,  was  the  next  one  visited. 
Pawnee  Killer  is  a  dreaded  warrior,  stands  six  feet  four, 
broad  shouldered,  and  weighs  240  pounds  avoirdupois. 
For  every  Pawnee  Indian  he  kills,  a  brass-headed  tack  is 
driven  into  the  stock  of  his  Winchester  rifle,  which  now 
contains  no  less  than  1 30.  Hence  the  name  conferred 
upon  him.  Of  the  seven  robes  in  his  possession  not  one 
could  I  recover.  The  old  fellow  was  grim,  surly  and 
defiant  when  I  charged  him  with  dishonesty,  which 
amouted  to  but  little  with  him,  since  the  time  was  hard 
by  that  “Ogallaishmea”  would  be  no  more,  even  before 
the  setting  of  another  sun,  according  to  his  ill-plotted 
scheme. 

Alas  !  “man  proposes  but  God  disposes.”  It  was  now 
about  3  o’clock  P.  M.,  and  not  long  subsequent  to  the  in¬ 
terview  had  with  the  old  war  chief  that  I  accepted  an 
invitation  to  dinner  in  a  neighboring  lodge.  There  were 
some  twelve  Indians,  all  strange  faces  to  me,  that  com¬ 
posed  the  company  in  the  new  lodge.  Boiled  antelope, 
sun-dried  buffalo  steak  and  sweetened  coffee  constituted 
the  meal  that  was  to  be  partaken  of.  I  did  not  like  the 


TRIED  TO  POISON  ME. 


8  7 


looks  of  the  group  one  bit.  All  seemed  to  be  more  or 
less  sulky.  Could  not  get  a  square  glance  from  any  of 
them.  Even  the  greasy  old  squaw  that  ‘  ‘hashed  up  the 
chuck”  took  a  shy  glance  into  the  fire  as  she  handed  me 
the  broken  cake.  No  wonder  indeed,  for  in  it  was  con¬ 
cealed  the  “pasuta,”  (deadly  poison)  mixed  and  prepared 
with  her  own  foul  clutches  to  take  a  human  life,  for  the 
paltry  consideration  of  securing  to  herself  and  a  few 
others  of  her  tribe  the  ownership  of  a  few  buffalo  robes. 
I  did  not  think  it  strange  that,  in  their  smoking  just  prior 
to  eating,  the  pipe  was  passed  around  me,  as  I  supposed 
they  were  aware  that  Ogallaishmea  did  not  use  the  weed. 
Neither  did  I  suspicion  anything  at  seeing  the  savages 
gnawing  chunks  of  broken  tallow  cake  instead  of  “an- 
meapespam,”  (bread)  since  with  the  noble  (?)  red  man 
pure  tallow  is  regarded  as  meat,  and  lean  beef,  bread. 
I  looked  at  it  in  the  light  of  a  special  kindness  on  their 
part  that  flour  bread  was  provided  me  on  this  occasion. 
I  tasted  of  the  meat,  drank  of  the  coffee,  and  ate  of  the 
bread  in  quantity  the  equivalent  of  two  good  sized  bis¬ 
cuits.  Baked  with  baking  powder,  the  cake  was  light 
and  tasted  well. 

The  effect  of  the  strychnine  soon  manifested  itself  in 
griping  pains  the  most  poignant.  I  sprang  upon  my 
feet  and  bounded  to  the  door. 

The  double  flap  arrangement  to  the  entrance  proved  a 
material  Impediment  to  a  speedy  egress;  the  inner  one 
consisted  of  a  young  elk’s  skin  attached  to  the  canvass 
by  four  fastnings  in  a  manner  to  conceal  the  creep-hole. 
A  big  red  blanket  served  as  the  outer  one.  Whether  it 
was  the  flaps  on  the  canvass  that  yielded  to  the  forced 


88 


NEAR  DEATH’S  DOOR. 


pressure,  deponent  saith  not;  how  be  it,  the  savages 
seemed  to  hustle  about  pretty  actively  in  their  endeavor, 
no  doubt,  to  fasten  upon  their  victim  the  possibility  of  a 
more  sure  fate.  Everything  outside  appeared  to  be  tinged 
with  a  greenish  cast  glimmering  in  a  shade  very  much 
like  that  which  prevailed  with  the  belt  of  totality  during 
the  late  eclipse  of  the  sun.  I  moved  hastily  along  in  a 
somewhat  recumbent  posture,  through  the  clumped  vil¬ 
lage  to  the  lodge  occupied  by  the  man  Buff  in  the  hope 
of  obtaining  a  temporary,  if  not  permanent  relief,  but  to 
my  utter  despair,  in  lieu  of  the  sympathy  I  felt  so  sure 
would  be  manifested  in  my  friend  (?)  upon  learning  of 
my  condition  only  a  stolid  indifference  exhibited  itself. 
Impelled  with  the  painful  belief  that  in  his  case  “feigned 
ignorance  was  but  perfect  bliss,  hence  also  folly  to  be 
wise,”  the  only  alternative  for  the  unfortunate  was  to 
drag  himself  if  possible  to  Lodge  Pole  station,  about 
three-fourths  of  a  mile  distant.  No  mortals  not  in  a 
similar  situation,  can  know  how  blithening  to  vitality  it 
is  to  have  the  very  jaws  of  grim  death  close  in  so  closely 
upon  him  so  far  away  from  home  and  friends  in  a  strange 
land  of  a  stranger  people.  Fortunately  at  the  foot-log 
crossing  a  few  hundred  paces  from  the  filthy  village  of 
varmints,  I  was  met  by  an  old,  (in  years  young)  Buffalo 
hunter,  and  surely  this  time  a  friend,  in  buckskin  suit 
and  a  heavy  bushy  crop  of  long  red  hair,  and  a  Sharp’s 
rifle  in  his  hand,  complemented  with  a  belt  of  cartridges, 
bowieknife  and  brace  of  ivory  mounted  revolvers.  D. 
W.  Street  of  the  Sappy  in  western  Nebraska,  to  whom 
is  now  given  an  opportunity  to  return  to  some  extent  at 
least,  as  he  styled  it,  ‘  'the  everlasting  obligation”  for  the 


TORTURING  IN  EFFIGY*  89 

protection  myself  and  dugout  afforded  him  that  dark 
morning  of  his  life  at  Julesburg,  scarcely  two  months 
previous  when  old  Red  Kettle  and  some  of  his  braves, 
with  steel  pointed  arrows,  gave  him  close  chase  to  the 
very  door  of  my  abode,  and  but  for  the  good  feeling  and 
friendship  existing  between  the  old  warrior  and  myself 
together  with  perhaps  a  judicious  use  of  Indianollegy, 
a  forced  entrance  would  have  been  made  and  the  massa¬ 
cre  of  D.  W.  Street  the  inevitable  result. 

The  only  available  inducement  to  abandon  their  mur¬ 
derous  purpose  was  a  death  pledge  that  the  case  should 
be  investigated.  If  Street  was  proven  guilty,  he  (Red 
Kettle)  should  avenge  the  wrong.  The  trouble  seemed 
to  be  that  while  a  number  of  Indians  were  camped  down 
on  the  Frenchman,  Red  Kettle  had  some  ponies  stolen. 
The  thief  was  tracked  fifty  miles  by  Red  Kettle,  to  a 
cattle  ranch  where  he  obtained  a  description  of  a  man 
with  some  stock,  suiting  the  personage  of  Street.  The 
man  as  described  by  the  ranchman  to  the  Indians  should 
have  two  blue  French  hounds  with  him,  and  when  Street 
came  to  Julesburg  some  two  months  after  the  stealing 
and  three  weeks  later  than  the  return  of  the  Indians,  he 
happened  to  have  a  blue  hound  with  him  which  of  course 
was  a  clincher  on  him  and  hence  the  settled  convictions 
of  Red  Kettle  that  he  found  his  man.  The  trial  was 
arranged  to  take  place  in  the  office  of  the  Union  Pacific 
Depot  that  night,  but  could  not  commence  before  the 
arrival  of  Leon  Palledy,  (Interpreter)  from  Lodge  Pole, 
on  the  9.  30  express.  In  the  meantime  several  hundred 
savages  assembled,  cutting  up  all  sorts  of  didoes  and 
even  torturing  in  effigy  Mr.  Street,  whom  they  felt  sure 


90 


MADE  A  PRISONER. 


would  be  found  guilty,  and  according  to  agreement  be 
turned  over  to  them  to  be  disposed  of  in  whatever  man¬ 
ner  best  suited  their  fiendish  natures.  The  Indians 
spared  no  pains  to  have  present  their  longest  headed 
most  influential  men.  Old  ‘  ‘Pawnee  Killer”  and  ‘  ‘Three 
Bear”  came  down  from  Lodge  Pole  with  Palledy  and  the 
sub  Indian  agent  Brown — “Two  Sauce, ’’Fire  Lightning, 
and  “Young-Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses,”  were  also  in 
the  council.  ‘  ‘Two  Sauce”  made  a  threatning  war-speech 
just  after  dark,  in  the  telegraph  office,  stalking  back  and 
forth  across  the  room  brandishing  his  fists  and  stamping 
his  broad  feet  not  only  to  the  annoyance  of  the  agent 
and  operator  but  to  the  extreme  terror  of  the  handful 
of  powerless  whites  crouched  in  the  corners,  behind  the 
door  and  under  the  desk.  The  operator  could  send  news 
but  not  receive  any  for  the  tumult.  D.  W.  Street  was 
locked  in  the  baggage  room  next  ajoining  the  office  in 
plain  hearing  of  all  that  was  going  on.  Those  were  long 
weary  hours  till  the  Indian  agent  and  his  interpreter 
arrived.  Mr.  Brown  had  the  good  will  of  most  all  the 
savages  and  is  a  slow  easy,  yet  sharp  and  shrewd  manager 
of  the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes,  both  of  which  had  to  do  in 
this  case.  The  trial  was  opened — Street  was  not  brought 
out — contrary  to  the  wish  of  the  savages.  Brown  was 
with  the  Indians  on  the  Frenchman  at  the  time  the 
ponies  were  taken,  and  by  him  as  well  as  by  two  others, 
Street  proved  an  alibi,  and  at  the  late  hour  of  three 
o’clock  in  the  morning  the  Indians  yielded,  though  firm 
in  the  belief  that  D.  W.  Street  was  “the  man,”  the 
evidence  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  which  showed 
that  Street  must  have  traveled  120  miles  on  foot  or 


INDIAN  SHREWDNESS. 


91 


horseback  in  9  hours,  to  have  made  him  guilty.  The 
arguments  and  sound  reasoning  made  use  of  upon  this 
occasion  reminded  one  of  the  circumstance  relating  to 
the  Old  Indian  and  his  meat;  having  returned  one  day 
to  his  wigwam,  and  discovering  that  some  one  had  visited 
his  smoked  venison  in  the  old  hollow  tree,  immediately 
started  in  pursuit  of  the  thief — arriving  where  two  men 
were  chopping  wood,  enquired,  whether  a  little  old  man 
with  a  short  gun  and  a  little  bobtailed  dog  had  passed 
that  way?  They  informed  him  there  had,  and  asked  the 
Indian  how  he  knew  it  was  a  little  old  man  with  a  short 
gun  and  a  little  dog  with  a  short  tail?  He  was  little,  said 
the  Indian,  because  he  stood  on  a  box  to  get  the  meat, 
and,  that  he  had  a  short  gun  from  the  mark  on  the  tree, 
that  he  was  old  because  his  steps  were  short,  the  dog 
was  little  for  his  tracks  were  small,  had  a  short  tail  for 
he  saw  where  he  sat  down  in  the  dust.  With  such 
shrewdness  well  might  the  friends  of  the  prisoner  tremble 
with  fear  of  not  being  able  to  save  him  guilty,  or  not 
guilty. 

But  to  my  subject:  by  this  time  I  was  almost  blind, 
alternate  flashes  of  chilliness  and  feverishness  held  sway 
the  white  frothy  substance  thrown  from  the  stomach 
every  few  minutes  afforded  but  a  momentary  cessation 
from  the  gradually  increasing  wretchedness.  Scores  of 
the  more  curious  barbarians  young  and  old  of  both  sexes 
with  blankets,  red,  white,  black,  and  striped,  thrown 
over  their  heads  and  held  so  tighly  about  their  faces 
that  the  eyes  only  were  visible,  trailed  after  us  to  witness 
what  they  considered  the  fun,  as  they  had  seen  in  the 
coyote;  the  dog,  etc.,  which  when  properly  dosed  mani- 


92 


KINDNESS  FOREVER  REMEMBERED. 


fests  the  most  intense  agony,  gives  a  few  leaps  into  the 
air,  whirls  around  in  a  ring  a  couple  of  times,  and  drops 
dead.  But  if,  and  oh  !  how  fortunate,  as  is  my  case, — - 
too  much  strychnine  should  be  given,  the  stomach  un¬ 
compromisingly  revolts  and  succeeds  nine  out  of  ten 
times  in  thwarting  the  purpose  of  death’s  messenger,  only 
however,  by  the  substitution  of  an  internal  commotion 
intolerable — twin  brother  to  a  stomach  of  boiling  lead. 
Upon  reaching  the  station,  my  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Morton,  did  everything  in  their  power  to  alleviate  my 
suffering,  which  kindness  I  shall  ever  remember.  Pic¬ 
ture  to  yourself  a  one-and-a-half-story,  little  red  framed 
building  with  two  double  windows  of  twelve  panes  of 
glass  each,  and  to  every  glass  an  Indian’s  face  pressed 
smack  up  against  the  window,  glaring  at  an  almost 
dying  man,  lying  upon  a  lounge  behind  the  stove  in  the 
farther  corner  of  the  room,  continually  vomiting  froth — 
and  you  have  it. 

No  doctor  could  be  summoned  before  the  arrival  of 
the  train  the  next  morning  at  9.30  A.  M.  Mrs.  Morton 
suggested  that  some  sweet  milk  be  given;  no  sooner  swal¬ 
lowed  than  thrown  up,  a  good  thing  to  be  sure  for  poison 
in  the  stomach.  The  sub  Indian  agent  who  was  dis¬ 
patched  for,  arrived  from  his  camp  six  miles  up  the 
creek.  I  was  then  removed  over  to  the  R.  R.  office  and 
placed  upon  a  pallet  of  buffalo  robes  provided  by  the 
station  agent  to  whom  I  handed  my  pocket-book  with 
some  valuable  papers,  and  to  whom  also  I  gave  a  few 
words  of  instruction  with  reference  to  myself  and  the 
address  of  my  father,  Daniel  Funderburgh. 

“An  hour  of  misery  is  longer  than  a  day  of  pleasure.,, 


A  HORRIBLE  NIGHT. 


93 


Yes,  truly  the  so  called  state  of  unconsciousness  spent 
in  the  realms  of  dreamland  is  not  always  unattended 
with  agony  the  most  horrible — seeming  just  as  real  and 
producing  suffering  just  as  intense  as  if  it  had  been  a 
reality — my  tormentors  in  hideous  forms  were  after  me 
all  the  night  long,  and  I  fought  the  monsters  with  a  des¬ 
peration  that  ground  the  very  life  out  of  me. 

The  first  recollection  of  myself  since  a  late  hour  the 
previous  evening,  was  upon  opening  my  eyes  about  9 
o’clock  in  the  morning,  and  although  almost  too  weak 
and  haggard  for  the  trip,  assisted  by  my  friend  Mr. 
Walters,  who  attended  me  during  the  night  and  who 
several  times  thought  me  past  the  line  of  recovery,  I 
boarded  the  eastern  bound  emigrant  train  for  Julesburg, 
to  which  place  we  arrived  about  1 1  o’clock  a.  m.  It 
was  distinctly  remembered  by  Messrs.  Seech  &  Son, 
grocers,  at  Julesburg,  that  the  old  Pawnee  Killer  had 
purchased  of  them  a  bottle  of  strychnine  a  few  weeks 
previous. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  at  Julesburg,  I  was  told  by 
quite  a  number  of  Indians  that  I  had  taken  pasuta, 
(their  term  for  medicine)  when  I  would  say  to  some 
of  them  '‘Pawnee  Killer,  no  good;’’  explaining  the 
reason,  they  seemed  very  much  surprised,  while  others 
would  give  with  a  nod,  quick  assent  to  its  being  the 
truth.  This  bit  of  experience  had  a  tendency  to  put 
me  a  little  more  on  my  guard,  for  had  it  not  occurred  I 
might  have  been  foolish  enough  to  have  accompanied 
"Little  Bear”  into  the  Black  Hills  for  a  wagon  load  of 
gold  dust,  "chischilla  muz  is  kaw,”  little  money,  as  he 
styled  it,  but  of  this  more  anon. 


94 


PECULIARITY  OF  INDIAN  PONIES. 


As  noted  before,  Little  Bear  seldom  left  vacant  a 
place  at  the  festal  board  in  “Ogallaishmea,” — dugout, 
for  many  weeks;  and  as  a  natural  consequence  one 
might  think  that  any  effort  at  compensation  would  ema¬ 
nate  from  the  purest  of  motives.  One  day  after  he  had 
gormandized  to  gluttony  on  buffalo  hump  and  fat  bacon 
with  a  dessert  of  seven  sad  dumplings  (little  loaves  of 
bread  with  apple  in,  as  he  termed  them,)  and  was  lux¬ 
uriating  in  the  fragrant  fumes  of  his  hugely  loaded  Ver¬ 
million  over  in  the  farther  corner  on  the  ground,  my  at¬ 
tention  was  arrested  by  the  expression,  “You-come- 
me-h-o-use.r  I  went  with  him  to  his  tepee  and  from 
there  out  to  his  ponies — a  bunch  of  a  dozen  or  so  a  few 
hundred  yards  off.  There  is  something  peculiar  about 
Indian  ponies;  there  may  be  a  thousand  or  more  belong¬ 
ing  to  a  hundred  Indians,  all  turned  out  together,  each 
man’s  ponies  will  remain  in  a  group  by  themselves;  to 
this  it  appears  they  are  trained  by  tying  the  younger 
ones  to  the  older  one’s  tails,  likewise  any  new  additions 
to  the  herd.  The  first  thing  my  swarthy  native  did  was 
to  present  me  with  one  of  his  ponies,  then  he  sold  me 
one  in  trade,  for  the  value  of  about  $7,  seemingly  cheap, 
yet  dear.  Among  the  bunch  was  a  very  fine  roan,  with 
a  long  bushy  tail  and  mane,  large  nostrils,  clear  bright 
eyes,  and  just  the  kind  of  a  pony  calculated  to  com¬ 
mand  the  admiration  of  any  lover  of  a  perfect  animal. 
Its  owner  was  sharply  eyeing  its  inspector.  Turning  to 
the  Indian  I  said,  washta,  (good)  at  which  with  a  grunt 
and  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  exclaimed,  “ugh  wash 
tellu,  le  le  wash  tellu,”  (very  good,  the  very  best.)  As 
he  thus  spoke,  he  came  up  close  and  resting  his  hand  on 


HAD  TO  KILL  A  MAN  THAT  EVENING.  95 

my  arm,  continued  swap.  Da  ko,  said  I.  Shuthulla, 
mea,  shushull.  In  the  mean  time  projecting  his  hands 
above  his  head,  palms  front,  in  a  gentle  motion  back 
and  forth,  mule  without  a  doubt.  He  was  bent  on 
having  my  Texas  donkey  for  a  pack  animal.  The  don¬ 
key  was  quite  small,  not  over  three  and  a  half  feet  in 
height,  though  of  prodigious  strength  of  the  body.  Jack 
was  a  general  favorite  among  the  loafers  and  a  source 
of  great  delight  at  times,  being  of  a  dull  mopish  dis¬ 
position,  and  running  at  large,  served  as  a  sort  of  town 
scavenger. 

Sometimes  three  or  four  boosy  men  at  a  time  would 
straddle  Jack’s  woolly  coat  and  with  their  toes  almost 
touching  the  ground,  march  into  the  saloon  for  drinks. 
Of  course,  owing  to  the  donkey’s  good  sense  above  his 
fellows,  he  invariabiy  declined,  and  thus  escaped  the 
tarantula  juice  whenever  it  became  a  matter  of  his  own 
choice,  which  was,  however,  seldom  the  case. 

The  packing  ability  of  this  jack  was  what  inspired 
this  Indian  with  the  determination  to  secure  to  himself 
the  ownership .  A  Spencer  carbine,  box  of  crackers,  a 
few  tasma,  (apples)  a  little  chenompa  and  pasuta  soppa, 
(sugar  and  coffee)  together  with  a  few  trinkets  as  the 
cinta  to  seal  the  bargain,  and  the  two  animals  changed 
owners,  the  little  roan  was  kept  under  lock  and  key  most 
of  the  time  thereafter  until  stolen  by  one  Paddy  Doil. 

This  noted  desparado  got  into  a  serious  row  one  after¬ 
noon  at  Julesburg,  and  had  the  boldness  to  approach 
me  with  the  startling  statement  that  he  had  to  kill  a 
man  that  evening,  and  wanted  my  pony  to  get  away 
on — would  return  him  in  a  couple  of  weeks  and  pay 


A  MIDNIGHT  LUNCH. 


96 

me  liberally  for  the  accommodation.  In  all  that  could 
be  said,  Paddy  remained  unswerved  in  his  fell  purpose 

to  cut  short  the  life  of  poor  Mr.  - .  I  felt  that  it 

was  in  my  power  to  divert  the  bloody  tradegy  for  that 
evening’s  enactment,  and  watched  my  opportunity  to 
post  the  coming  victim  which  had  to  be  done  in  a  way 
that  would  not  entail  upon  Doil  the  very  same  fate  by 
him  intended  for  the  other  party,  a  very  common  occur¬ 
rence  in  the  Eacchanalian  Orgie  on  the  frontier. 

That  night,  though  no  one  was  killed,' the  little  roan 
left,  never  more  to  appear  in  Julesburg. 

The  next  morning  I  circled  the  station  to  find  the 
trail  which,  once  struck,  was  easily  followed,  by  the 
peculiar  shape  of  one  hoof.  The  trail  led  up  the  South 
Platte,  going  as  far  as  Lodge  Pole  creek.  I  returned 
for  some  provisions  and  blankets,  for  I  expected  to  be 
absent  three  or  four  days.  Crossing  the  creek  and  once 
more  inspecting  the  track,  the  brown  mule  was  given 
the  reins.  In  three  hours  a  distance  of  eighteen  miles 
to  Moore’s  ranche,  was  reached.  Riverside  ranche, 
forty  miles  from  Julesburg,  a  little  after  sundown. 
Here  the  saddle  was  transferred  to  the  back  of  a  good 
pony  that  took  its  rider  fifteen  miles  further  for  a 
rest  and  a  midnight  lunch.  A  change  of  horses  and 
the  company  of  a  friend,  the  chase  was  renewed,  six¬ 
teen  miles  further  to  friend  Cary’s  by  4  o’clock  in  the 
morning.  The  American  crossing  was  the  point  desired 
to  gain  by  sunrise  if  possible,  only  eleven  miles,  which, 
with  the  change  of  horses  at  Cary’s  enabled  us  to  do. 
But  no  signs  of  Paddy  Doil,  he  having  rode  along  in  the 
channel  of  Pole  Creek  to  its  mouth,  thence  across  the 


THEIR  INDIAN  BLOOD  FLASHED  UP.  97 

Platte  over  the  plains  southward,  as  Paddy — who  is  now 
languishing  in  one  of  the  Canon  City  prison  cells — re¬ 
counted  to  buffalo  hunters  on  the  Republican. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  or  so,  Little  Bear  who  was  at 
that  time  stopping  at  Lodge-Pole  station  for  a  few  days, 
preparatory  to  the  final  march  for  the  “Walkapoweny’’ 
(Agency),  came  down  to  Julesburg  one  fine  day  for  the 
express  purpose  to  run  bargains,  having  disposed  of  all 
the  ‘  ‘booty”  obtained  in  the  trade.  He  would  not  be 
put  off,  he  would  have  the  little  Arabian  Roan,  and  that 
too  in  a  style  most  unreasonable,  since  the  donkey  was 
not  even  brought  along  to  offer  in  return,  by  which  the 
circle  of  suspicion  was  very  much  enlarged.  An  effort 
to  overhaul  an  Indian  in  his  flight  with  stolen  property, 
across  the  trackless  prairie,  is  indeed  but  a  4  ‘wild  goose 
chase.”  Little  Bear  was  accompanied  on  this  trip  by  a 
couple  other  Indian  braves,  and  all  united  in  the  solemn 
promise  that  “Jack”  should  be  returned  to-morrow 
(which  never  comes)  if  they  could  only  get  the  pony  to¬ 
day — good  enough  for  Indian  sagacity  though  too  trans¬ 
parent  for  any  except  those  unacquainted  with  Sioux 
doings.  Failing  in  this  scheme  to  get  possession  of  both 
animals,  and  not  a  little  exasperated  at  pale-face  incre¬ 
dulity,  their  Indian  blood  flashed  into  a  “two-forty’ 
heat,  but  not  daring  to  do  more,  because  of  the  sur¬ 
rounding  situation  just  at  that  time,  the  three  boarded 
the  evening  accommodation  train  for  Lodge-Pole.  The 
same  evening,  about  nine  o’clock,  I  received  a  dispatch 
by  telegraph  from  Leon  Palledy,  the  Indian  trader  pre¬ 
viously  alluded  to,  stating  that  he  wanted  to  converse 
with  me  over  the  wires  immediately,  that  all  was  ex- 


98  ALL  WAS  EXCITEMENT. 

citement  in  the  Indian  village  at  Lodge-Pole  and  likely 
to  be  serious  trouble.  Hurrying  over  to  the  office  the 
operator  announced  me  present.  Three  hours  use  of 
the  wires  failed  to  allay  the  storm  though  the  interpreter 
found  out  that  Little  Bear’s  party  had  upon  their  return 
fabricated  stories  to  excite  the  Indians  to  action.  The 
last  telegram  read:  swarms  of  the  Savages  are  in  and 
around  the  office  here  and  demand  of  you  through  me 
the  surrender  of  the  roan  horse.  If  not  given  up  im¬ 
mediately  a  war  party  will  start  for  Julesburg  at  once. 
This  news  was  fun  for  the  “bummer”  element  at  Jules¬ 
burg  and  the  remainder  of  the  night  was  spent  in  very 
active  preparation  to  deal  out  to  the  “Redskins”  a  little 
the  warmest  reception  that  had  ever  been  their  lot  to 
receive  at  any  former  time.  The  sentiment  was  a  unit 
not  to  accede  to  the  demands  of  the  ‘  ‘Reds”  in  this  in¬ 
stance,  lest  they  should  reclaim  every  thing  that  they 
had  bartered  away  during  the  past  season,  and  if  suc¬ 
cessful,  become  dangerously  bold .  Even  the  women  of 
the  town  with  their  children  said,  if  necessary,  they 
would  take  to  the  Fort.  No  Indians  came  that  night. 
All  next  day  was  devoted  to  perfecting  the  reception  ar¬ 
rangements,  in  the  moulding  of  bullets  and  the  priming 
of  cartridges.  The  roof  of  the  old  freight  depot  served 
the  excellent  purpose  for  a  constant  look-out.  All  the 
ranchmen  in  the  vicinity  of  Julesburg  collected  in,  and 
these  with  the  thirty  or  forty  men  already  on  hand,  to¬ 
gether  with  the  arrival  of  six  or  eight  more  hunters  by 
evening  with  their  “big  fifties”  and  “ninety-five  grain 
forty-four’s”  that  throw  from  an  ounce  to  two  ounces  of 
lead  fully  a  mile  with  considerable  accuracy,  failed  not 


a  night's  carouse. 


99 


in  maintaining  a  fearless  defense.  Finally  the  idea  pre¬ 
vailed  that  the  attempt  to  molest  the  Julesburgers  had 
been  abandoned,  the  cow  boys  repairing  to  their  res¬ 
pective  quarters,  while  the  buffalo  hunters  and  the  gam¬ 
blers  squandered  the  night  in  the  wildest  revelry.  The 
following  day  most  of  the  hunters,  having  gone  through 
with  all  their  loose  change,  struck  for  the  buffalo  range, 
after  other  loads  of  game,  pelts  and  furs,  with  which  to 
have  in  a  fortnight  another  carouse.  The  day  passed 
wearily,  the  coming  night  was  destined  to  be  one  of  im¬ 
minent  danger.  Had  I  not  known  what  was  on  the 
tapis,  yet  ignorant  as  to  the  final  result,  and  unable  to 
escape,  I  would  have  perished  then  and  there.  While 
I  do  not  believe  in  forebodings  or  signs  portentous  of 
good  or  evil  as  pertaining  to  the  human  family,  I  am 
strongly  inclined  to  the  belief  that  there  is  something 
real  in  the  presentiment  theory.  The  shadows  darkened 
and  just  precisely  what  was  to  happen  I  could  not  dis¬ 
cern  .  I  came  west  to  regain  my  health,  lost  in  the 
school  room,  and  meant  to  “rough  it”  through.  My 
supper  of  broiled  buffalo  steak,  slap-jacks  and  chocolate 
tea  (my  favorite  drink)  was  none  the  less  relished  that 
evening,  though  at  any  moment,  an  attack  by  savages 
•  was  liable  to  be  made.  During  the  afternoon  I  had  had 
some  conversation  with  a  couple  of  gentlemen  from  Sioux 
City,  Iowa,  in  reference  to  selling  them  a  few  car  loads 
of  green  buffalo  hams.  After  supper  according  to  agree¬ 
ment  I  went  to  the  depot  to  meet  these  gentlemen  again. 
The  depot  building  at  this  place  was  fashioned  after  the 
style  of  most  all  others  belonging  to  the  Union  Pacific 
company,  having  a  separate  room  for  family  accommo- 


1 00 


AT  THE  DEPOT. 


dation,  a  very  good  thing,  should  the  agent  chance  to  be 
a  married  man.  The  building  stood  east  and  west  par¬ 
allel  with  the  track,  on  the  north  having  a  platform  the 
entire  length  of  the  building,  some  forty-five  feet  on  the 
south.  About  eighteen  feet  of  the  east  end  was  used  for 
the  business  office  and  waiting  room,  the  two  apartments 
being  separated  by  a  six  feet  paling  fence  extending 
across  from  the  east  wall  westward,  with  a  square  crook 
of  two  feet  to  the  north,  thence  across  in  the  offset  was 
swung  the  gate  and  so  contrived  as  not  to  be  opened  by 
any  one  on  the  outside  of  the  business  office.  The  Iowa 
men  happened  to  be  in  with  the  Agent  conversing  with 
him  as  to  the  freight  on  meat  to  Sioux  City,  consequently 
I  was  admitted.  Already  the  crowd  had  begun  to  as¬ 
semble  in  the  waiting  room  as  usual  upon  the  arrival  of 
the  eastern  bound  passenger  due  at  9:30  P.  M. ,  and  on 
which  Messrs.  Boge  &  Co.  expected  to  leave,  as  the  final 
arrangement  to  ship  three  car  loads  of  buffalo  meat  had 
just  been  completed,  and  the  guarantee  of  freight  charges 
by  them  made  satisfactory,  when  the  whistle  of  an  engine 
indicated  the  arrival  of  some  train,  thought  to  be  the  pas¬ 
senger  by  Messrs.  Boge  &  Co.,  though  thirty  minutes  too 
early.  The  agent  explained  that  it  was  only  an  extra 
freight  intending  to  sidetrack  to  let  the  express  pass  by. 
The  only  two  chairs  in  the  office  were  occupied  by  the 
Sioux  City  gentlemen,  while  my  seat  was  in  the  parquet 
(flat)  between  Mr.  Boge  and  the  paling  partition  with  the 
west  wall  of  the  room  for  backing.  All  thought  of  In¬ 
dians  within  the  last  half  hour  had  entirely  passed  from 
my  mind  until  arrested  by  the  unmistakeable  grunt  of 
the  Indian  ugh!  Imagine  if  you  can  my  absolute  horror 


THEY  MEANT  MISCHIEF. 


101 


upon  turning  my  head  to  the  right  and  looking  up  to 
recognize  the  savage  vision  of  him  who  once  claimed  to 
be  friend  but  now  mortal  enemy,  Little  Bear.  Close  be¬ 
side  him  stood  Young  Pawnee  Killer,  a  stoutly  built  six- 
footer  of  about  twenty-two  summers,  whom  I  scarcely 
dreaded  less  because  of  his  conspicuousness  in  the  Lodge- 
Pole  poisoning  affair.  A  third  Savage  sidled  up  to  the 
railing.  Just  then  how  many  more  might  be  present  I 
dreaded  to  surmise.  The  usual  greeting  of  the  friendly 
Indian  when  meeting  a  white  man  is,  ‘'how-cola.”  Little 
Bear  thrust  his  long  scrawny  hand  of  long  black  fingers 
through  the  palings  as  if  desiring  a  shake.  I  took  his 
hand,  he  uttered  not  a  word,  the  grasp  was  a  regular 
Judas  grip.  I  tried  to  give  myself  the  slightest  concern 
about  the  presence  of  the  three  Savages  that  had  just 
arrived  on  the  freight,  for  the  evident  purpose  of  butch¬ 
ery,  and  no  other,  as  their  actions  subsequently  showed . 
Although  my  fright  and  irrepresible  fear  may  have  been 
well  concealed  for  the  time  being,  I  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  being  thus  corralled  by  three  savages  armed 
to  the  teeth,  and  upon  whose  very  faces  was  easily  legi¬ 
ble  the  heinous  crime  of  massacre,  and  the  tantalizing 
look  as  if  to  say:  Now  we’ve  got  you,  escape  if  you 
can.  My  only  hope  was  to  escape  when  the  rush  for 
the  platform  would  be  made  at  the  arrival  of  the  train. 
Just  as  I  was  slipping  through  the  gate  Little  Bear 
caught  my  coat  sleeve  by  way  of  detention  and  pulled 
me  back.  I  said  to  him,  waseeche  chim-pogeny-donka 
Omaha  tepe  me  come,  (understood  as  saying,  two  white 
men  were  taking  the  big  wagon  (cars)  for  Omaha,  when 
gone  I  will  return).  He  doubted  the  returning  part, 


102  ON  MURDER  BENT. 

judging  from  the  vice  like  grasp  upon  my  arm.  No 
sooner  had  the  cars  rolled  away  than  I  was  almost  forcibly 
dragged  back  into  the  reception  or  waiting  room.  To 
have  done  any  other  way  than  to  remain  strictly  silent 
would  have  only  announced  the  signal  for  my  own  execu¬ 
tion.  Even  in  the  midst  of  a  score  of  friends  not  one  had 
as  yet  taken  in  the  situation. 

I  was  now  literally  a  prisoner,  my  captors  not  expec¬ 
ting  me  to  pass  out  of  that  room  alive.  It  was  only  by 
the  greatest  effort  that  I  was  enabled  to  keep  cool,  and 
thereby  retain  presence  of  mind  to  work  out  of  the  im¬ 
pending  danger.  Little  Bear,  still  holding  on,  pressed 
to  the  right  over  against  the  east  window,  and  assuming 
a  sort  of  half-sitting  posture  on  my  left,  bade  me  take  a 
similar  position  between  himself  and  the  paling  partition. 
As  I  turned  around  to  sit  down  for  a  moment  as  requested, 
before  I  should  make  the  intended  leap  over  the  partition 
fence  and  escape  by  the  outer  door  to  the  business  office, 
who  should  I  see  standing  boldly  up  against  the  wall  im¬ 
mediately  to  the  left  of  the  door  we  came  in  at,  like  a 
marble  statue,  but  the  very  man  I  rejoiced  to  see  most, 
Mr.  D.  W.  Street,  with  his  arms  leisurely  folded  across 
his  breast,  unconcernedly  gazing  over  the  fence  to  where 
the  night  operator  was  receiving  a  message. 

It  seemed  that  my  friend,  in  his  moccasins,  had  noise- 
lesely  glided  in  after  us  when  the  cars  pulled  out,  in  the 
belief  that  his  assistance  might  be  needed  to  dissuade 
these  dusky  sons  of  th*  plains  from  their  bloodthirsty 
purpose.  Or,  perhaps  the  most  effectual  persuaders  were 
the  two  ivory-mounted  six-shooters  peeping  out  from 
their  leathern  belt,  the  efficacy  of  which,  wielded  in  the 


“HOW  MUCH  MONEY  HAVE  YOU?  ”  I03 

hands  of  this  young  Indian  fighter,  has  many  a  time 
been  sorely  felt.  Young  Pawnee  Killer  and  his  comrade 
were  backed  up  against  the  paling  partition  at  the  fur¬ 
ther  corner  glaring  savagely  at  the  intruder  (Street). 
“Forewarned,  forearmed.’'  Not  so  in  this  instance,  not 
having  so  much  as  a  common  pocket  knife  at  hand, 
while  Little  Bear  was  heavily  armed  not  only  with  knives 
and  revolvers,  but  held  in  his  clutches  the  very  identical 
carbine  (eight-shooter)  that  he  had  obtained  of  me  in 
the  pony  trade .  The  less  fearlessness  anyone  manifests 
while  in  the  hands  or  power  of  the  savages  the  less  chance 
will  likely  be  afforded  for  an  escape.  I  dared  not  take 
chances  yet,  since  Little  Bear  was  holding  his  rifle  in 
most  too  unfavorable  a  position,  with  breech  resting  on 
the  floor,  passing  up  between  his  knees  and  firmly  grasp¬ 
ed  near  the  muzzle  with  both  hands  to  be  easily  whirled 
into  immediate  use.  It  appeared  to  be  the  work  of  this 
Indian  to  absorb  my  attention  by  controversy,  for  it  was 
not  enough  to  hear  and  reply,  I  must  look  right  at  him. 
If  I  did  not  he  would  shriek  out  “Ogalla,  Ogallaishmea,” 
and  pull  my  arm  or  coat  sleeve.  The  first  utterance  he 
made  after  we  were  seated  was,  “Nea  mussiska  dona?” 
(how  much  money  have  you?)  “Chischilla,”  (only  a 
little)  said  I.  “Ugh!  nea  ota  (you  lots)  you  lie.”  This 
was  the  first  round,  and  there  could  be  no  mistake  from 
his  demoniacal  grin  and  nervous  excitability  that  there 
was  more  to  follow.  Somebody  just  then  felt  quite  will¬ 
ing  to  be  allowed  to  depart  in  peace,  but  no  sooner  had 
the  first  point  been  settled  than  his  savage  majesty,  to 
avoid  an  explosion,  gave  vent  to  a  second  impulse:  “Nea 
bushalo  robe  dona?  (how  many  buffalo  robes  have  you?) 


104  THINGS  BECOMING  MOST  UNCOMFORTABLE. 

“Oponeca,  oponeca  okeesa,”  (one  hundred  or  one  hun¬ 
dred  and  fifty,)  I  answered.  “You  lie;  ota,  ota,”  (lots, 
lots,)  was  his  emphatic  response.  Of  course,  not  feel¬ 
ing  very  well,  I  had  no  disposition  to  argue  the  case,  and 
so  just  let  the  matter  rest  there.  The  fact  of  the  busi¬ 
ness  was,  I  felt  a  greater  curiosity  anyway  to  know  more 
about  the  architecture  of  that  little  room,  as  to  its  fa¬ 
cilities  for  egress  and  ingress,  particularly  the  former, 
the  adjustability  of  its  windows,  and  convenience  of  its 
doors,  ventilation,  etc. 

Again  he  belched  forth:  “Nea  bushelo  chimpogeny 
donka  Omaha  tepee  mussiska  come  ishtimel  dona?”  (how 
many  days  will  it  require  to  ship  those  robes  to  Omaha 
on  the  cars  and  get  the  money  back?)  “Yarmeny,” 
(three),  to  which  he  flung  out  his  usual  statement  of  re¬ 
sentment,  “You  lie.  Me  Omaha  tepee  chimpogeny 
donka  ishtimel  nepa  come,’'  saying  that  he  had  gone  to 
Omaha  on  the  cars  and  returned  in  two  days;  but  this, 
though  the  truth,  like  the  others,  he  failed  to  compre¬ 
hend  the  difference  between  the  speed  of  the  passenger 
and  freight  trains,  and  really  believed  I  was  lying  to  him, 
hence  ought  to  die. 

Just  as  the  last  “you  lie”  was  uttered,  Young  Pawnee 
Killer  stepped  out  in  full  view  from  the  place  where  he 
was  partially  concealed  by  the  crook  or  offset  in  the  pal¬ 
ing  partition,  and  stalked  stealthily  forward  to  within  a 
few  feet,  immediately  in  front  of  us,  and  leaned  consid¬ 
erably  forward  over  his  left  foot,  with  both  hands  and 
arms  hid  under  the  red  blanket  loosely  thrown  over  his 
head  and  shoulders,  with  barely  opening  sufficient  to  see 
the  hideously  painted  face  beneath.  To  escape  now 


“IT  WOULD  BE  ALL  DAY  WITH  ME.”  I05 

without  a  few  passing  strokes,  thrusts,  or  shots  at  least 
would  be  a  miracle.  I  fixed  my  eyes  upon  him  the  in¬ 
stant  he  started  toward  us,  and  held  him  there  under  as 
piercing  a  look  as  possible,  knowing  that  so  soon  as  I 
should  release  him  by  giving  attention  to  the  mutterings 
of  Little  Bear,  who  was  all  the  while  doing  his  utmost 
to  draw  my  attention,  almost  jerking  me  over  at  times, 
it  would  be  all  day  with  me. 

My  intention,  the  moment  the  young  savage  should 
make  the  next  aggressive  move — which  could  be  none 
other  than  the  very  worst — was  to  make  a  shield  of 
Little  Bear — that  is,  clinch  the  Indian  on  my  left  and 
whirl  him  around  in  front  of  me,  and  let  him  intercept 
whatever  might  be  intended  as  a  death  blow  for  me.  All  ^ 

these  changes  and  conditions  transpired  in  a  very  brief 
interval.  I  felt  the  pall  of  death  hovering  over  me. 
The  third  Indian,  who  was  standing  back  ready  to  arrest 
any  movement  of  Mr.  Street,  made  a  noise  that  attract¬ 
ed  the  attention  of  Little  Bear,  causing  him  to  mut¬ 
ter  something  to  the  would-be  assassin,  which  had  the 
effect  to  straighten  him  up  and  to  cause  him  to  turn 
squarely  around,  and  in  a  few  quiet  steps  move  over  to 
where  he  formerly  stood,  but  in  passing  the  gate  let  his 
right  arm  drop  against  it,  which,  not  happening  to  latch 
when  the  operator  passed  through,  swung  open,  letting 
him  into  the  business  office.  Of  course  I  did  not  feel  so 
much  inclined  to  jump  over  the  partition  just  at  that 
time  as  I  did  a  little  while  before. 

A  glance  at  Mr.  Street  accounted  for  the  sudden 
change  that  had  taken  place,  for  his  hand  was  still  hold¬ 
ing  on  to  one  of  his  persuaders  just  being  returned  to 


106  MAKING  MY  ESCAPE. 

the  holster.  A  change  of  base  was  all  that  it  amounted 
to.  Young  Pawnee  Killer  shrugged  up  his  shoulders  a 
few  times  and  readjusted  his  blanket,  then  came  quickly 
forward  on  the  inside  of  the  paling  partition  and  im¬ 
mediately  opposite  his  victim.  It  seemed  that  longer 
silence  had  ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  and,  as  discretion  is  al¬ 
ways  the  better  part  of  valor,  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  face 
to  foe,  in  the  meantime  exclaiming,  “Nea  uta?”  will 
you  eat?  that  is,  will  you  go  with  me  to  my  dug-out  and 
have  a  big  supper.  Now  an  Indian  is  always  at  all 
times,  and  under  all  circumstances,  ready  to  eat — to  gor¬ 
mandize.  This  is  their  god.  A  quiet  nod  with  the  head 
gave  ascent,  as  did  the  other  two  upon  a  similar  re¬ 
request.  To  be  sure,  the  dug-out,  as  being  the  best 
possible  place  for  them  to  execute  their  plans,  gained 
their  approval. 

In  two  steps  my  hand  was  on  the  door  knob,  but  in¬ 
stead  of  turning  the  door  open  for  my  guests,  I  slammed 
it  to  with  a  force  almost  sufficient  to  wrench  it  from  its 
hinges,  and  instead  of  turning  to  the  right,  I  bounded 
off  the  platform  and  over  the  gravel  around  the  north¬ 
east  corner  of  that  building  for  Harry  Entriken’s  saloon 
and  eating  house  that  stood  [pear  the  northwest  corner 
of  the  depot.  A  poor  pair  of  legs,  I  thought,  that 
couldn’t  take  their  body  out  of  danger. 

No  sooner  had  I  reached  the  saloon  door  than  the 
savages  had  gained  the  west  corner  of  the  depot  build¬ 
ing,  and  recognizing  their  man  by  the  buffalo  overcoat 
as  he  passed  the  light  in  the  window  and  turned  thither¬ 
wards,  the  intervening  space  of  some  sixty  feet  was 
quickly  shortened  in  the  several  fearful  bounds  in  pur- 


WOULD  HAVE  LOST  HIS  LIFE.  107 

suit,  and  had  another  man  or  two  been  wanting  to 
crowd  out,  the  chances  of  escape  would  have  been  ren¬ 
dered  hopelessly  meager.  Had  there  not  been  a  slight 
fall  of  snow  on  the  ground,  and  the  moon,  though 
hid  by  clouds,  reflected  some  light,  Mr.  McCloughlin, 
section  foreman,  would  certainly  have  lost  his  life, 
having  been  taken  for  Ogallaishmea  by  mistake.  But 
the  Indian  that  drew  on  him  at  a  little  distance,  for 
some  cause  or  other  held  fire,  for  a  surer,  closer  shot, 
when  the  mistake  was  discovered.  I  stepped  quietly 
through  the  saloon,  which  was  filled  with  18  or  20  men 
some  at  cards,  others  drinking,  to  the  door  opposite  the 
one  I  came  in  at,  opening  into  the  provision  room.  I 
took  one  glance  back  just  in  time  to  see  two  broad 
copper-colored  faces  pressed  against  the  window  outside. 
I  was  not  long  in  getting  through  the  door,  and  that  to 
apparently  unnoticed  by  any  one  in  the  saloon,  to  the 
right,  through  another  door,  into  the  dining  room,  and 
another  leading  to  the  kitchen.  Stepping  slily  to  the 
back  door  I  turned  the  key  and  swung  the  door  slightly 
ajar,  to  peep  out,  believing  that  the  Indians  would 
shortly  be  slipping  around  the  corral,  and  to  the  gate 
leading  to  the  well,  about  thirty  paces  off.  There  were 
no  lights  in  either  of  the  rooms  except  the  saloon. 

I  had  but  a  few  minutes  to  wait,  scarcely  time  enough 
to  quell  the  almost  audible  thumpings  of  my  heart,  ere 
two  of  the  three  savages  came  slily  hobbling  around  the 
corral  on  tiptoe,  right  up  to  the  little  gate,  and  even 
leaning  over  it  to  take  a  good  look  first  one  way  and 
then  another.  I  could  have  punched  their  heads  with  a 
ten  foot  pole,  though  unobserved  by  them,  under  the 


108  “BILL,  IS  THAT  YOU?” 

shadow  of  the  little  three  feet  square  roof  over  the 
door. 

Just  then  their  attention  was  attracted  by  a  noise  be¬ 
hind  them  at  the  big  tub  and  the  oaken  bucket  at  the 
well,  which  caused  them  to  walk  out  that  way,  only  to 
find  a  cow  and  I  think  some  cow-puncher  watering  his 
broncho. 

The  little  roan  was  under  lock  and  key  in  the  stable 
in  the  corral,  as  was  supposed  by  these  Indians,  and 
they  no  doubt  thought  that  Ogallaishmea  would  do  just 
as  they  themselves  would  do  in  such  a  case — run  right 
through  the  house,  out  into  the  corral,  mount  the  pony 
and  gallop  off. 

After  a  little  while,  when  failing  to  make  any  dis¬ 
coveries,  they  moved  slowly  away  round  the  corner  of 
the  house,  out  of  sight,  all  the  while  muttering  to  one 
another  in  a  lively  yet  suppressed  tone.  I  closed  the 
door  to  take  a  second  sober  thought  as  to  the  best  course 
to  pursue  under  the  circumstances,  when  I  heard  a  noise 
of  some  one  coming  in  from  the  bar-room.  The  voice, 
“Who  is  in  here?”  betrayed  the  speaker.  It  was  young 
Entriken,  a  heavy  set,  stoutly  built  six-footer  of  a  lad 
in  his  minority. 

I  quickly  replied,  “Bill,  is  that  you?” 

“Yes,”  was  the  answer,  and  added,  “Bill  Street  is 
hunting  for  you.” 

By  request  young  Entriken  ushered  in  D.  W. ,  from 
whom  I  learned  all  about  the  maneuverings  of  the  red 
skins  since  they  got  the  slip  in  the  office;  that  they  had 
just  gone  over  again  to  the  depot  and  were  coiled  down 
about  the  stove,  very  much  to  the  discomfiture  of  the 


A  GAME  OF  DRAW-POKER.  109 

night  operator,  who  had  by  this  time  learned  much  of 
their  intentions  towards  a  fellow  white  man,  and  did 
not  know  but  that  if  disturbed  in  any  way  they  might 
conclude  to  vent  their  spleen  upon  him. 

No  disposition  to  drowsiness  that  night. 

I  learned  by  Mr.  Street  that  as  soon  as  Little  Bear 
got  out  of  the  office,  after  some  trouble  in  not  under¬ 
standing  the  knob  on  the  door,  quickly  threw  a  cartridge 
from  the  magazine  into  the  chamber  of  his  carbine,  which 
made  it  evident  enough  that  they  did  not  intend  that 
Ogalla  should  get  so  far  as  the  dug-out. 

Again  I  wished  myself  out  of  sight  and  reach  of  In¬ 
dians  forever.  The  hour  of  midnight  had  come,  and 
when  we  returned  to  the  bar-room  but  six  men  remained, 
too  drunk  to  reason,  yet  sober  enough  to  feel  able  to  re¬ 
pair  to  the  station  at  once,  butcher  the  reds,  and  deposit 
their  carcasses  in  the  sand  hills  a  few  hundred  yards  back 
of  the  saloon,  where  lie  and  bleach  the  bones  of  many 
a  poor  wretch  for  crime  even  less  notorious. 

During  the  lively  times  of  ’52,  when  the  unfortunate 
traveler  and  adventurer  came  riding  as  a  stranger  into 
this  modern  Sodom,  he  was  not  unfrequently  made  for 
amusement  the  target  of  a  half  dozen  shots,  to  see  who 
could  put  a  hole  through  the  crown  of  his  hat  without 
drawing  blood.  But  alas,  to  enter,  with  revolvers  in  the 
hands  of  those  crazed  with  whisky,  brought  their  victim 
low  even  unto  death.  A  game  at  draw-poker  for  the 
horse  and  saddle  ended  the  fun  (?)  perhaps  for  that 
day. 

No  amount  of  remonstrance  availed  against  the  bent 
purpose  of  Harry  and  his  clan  to  put  into  execution  the 


I  IO 


THE  BRAWLING  CROWD  RETURNED. 


proposed  plan,  by  way  of  a  little  extra  fun.  Such  a 
course  would  be  sure  to  bring  at  least  eight  hundred 
warriors  tempestuously  upon  us  from  Lodge  Pole,  and 
not  a  soul  would  probably  ever  escape  the  vengeance  of 
their  wrath .  But  go  they  must  and  go  they  did,  armed 
with  revolvers  and  knives.  Jimmy  O'Conners,  the  least 
sober  of  the  pack,  pitched  right  in  at  an  attempt  to  first 
disarm  them,  by  grabbing  a  carbine  by  the  muzzle. 

A  moment  later,  had  it  not  been  for  the  brave  night 
watchman,  who  sprang  between  them,  all  would  have 
resulted  in  a  condition  the  most  deplorable. 

The  six  men  before  starting  had  taken  the  pains  of 
authority  to  lock  me  in  the  saloon,  so  as  not  to  bother 
them  over  at  the  office .  I  could  nevertheless  plainly 
hear  the  noise. 

Pretty  soon  the  brawling  crowd  returned.  The  pro¬ 
prietor  declared  that  I  should  lodge  with  them  for  the 
night,  which  I  could  not  do.  Then  three  of  the  men 
would  not  be  denied  the  privilege  of  acting  as  escort  to 
my  dug-out,  which  was  situated  about  three  hundred 
yards  distant,  on  the  other  side  of  the  track. 

I  tossed  the  dried  buffalo  hide  to  one  side  and  stepped 
down.  The  escort  replaced  the  door  and  said  they 
would  wait  until  the  light  was  blowed  out.  The  noise  of 
my  coming  in  and  fussing  about  to  find  the  lamp  aroused 
the  two  hunters,  of  whom  I  had  purchased  over  a  hun¬ 
dred  dollars’  worth  of  game  and  pelts  during  the  day, 
the  proceeds  of  which  having  been  freely  spent  for 
“tangle-foot,”  rendered  them  past  navigation,  that  had 
obtained  permission  to  lodge  in  the  dug-out  that  night. 
Also  Mr.  Byron,  my  bunk-mate  awoke. 


We  were  well  armed.  lii 

Byron  and  I  had  been  baching  together  for  months. 
He  was  the  agent  to  buy  robe  hides  for  the  large  and 
well-known  firm  of  Dubois  &  Co.,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
A  real  jolly  good  fellow,  of  Hibernian  extraction.  I  do 
not  think  that  three  men  could  be  worked  up  to  a  higher 
pitch  of  excitement  than  were  these,  upon  learning  of 
the  existing  trouble.  Especially  so  were  the  two  that 
slept  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  and  who  had  not  fully  re¬ 
covered  from  the  effects  of  the  strong  drink  taken  in  the 
evening. 

Mr.  Byron  deliberately  crawled  out  of  bed  {a  pallet 
of  buffalo  robes)  in  the  farther  corner  of  the  room  or 
cellar,  emphatically  asserting  that  to  sleep  there  would 
be  almost  sure  death,  arguing  that  the  Indians  would  be 
around  before  morning  in  numbers,  and  pour  in  through 
that  old  buffalo  rawhide  a  volley  of  leaden  bullets, 
knowing  where  we  slept,  to  the  extent  of  tearing  us  up 
into  mince-meat  piecemeal. 

All  in  all,  we  were  well  armed,  and  could  “stand  off 
a  host  of  redskins,”  so  we  all  decided  to  fix  up  a  barri¬ 
cade  in  front  of  our  beds  and  retire, — not  however  to 
sleep,  for  this  was  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Gaping, 
yawning  and  restless  tossing  about  was  the  order  of  a 
long,  weary  night,  wide-awake  dreaming  of  the  most  dire 
forebodings  of  events  that  the  gray  dawn  (the  savage's 
favorite  hour  for  onslaught)  was  sure  to  usher  in. 

Hush!  a  noise  at  the  steps  above.  All  of  a  sudden 
the  buffalo  hide  over  the  entrance  was  flung  aside,  and 
in  stumbled  one  of  the  savages,  whom  I  recognized  as 
young  Pawnee  Killer,  from  the  expression,  4  ‘Ogallaish- 
mea  dako?” — (buffalo  coat  man,  where  is  he?) 


1 12  “TELL  HIM,  l’M  OUT.” 

It  was  too  dark  to  recognize  by  sight  our  unwelcome 
visitor  at  so  early  an  hour  in  the  morning.  As  for  my¬ 
self,  however,  I  think  I  never  lost  sight  of  the  hideous 
monster  though  eyes  be  closed — the  image  was  indelibly 
fixed  on  the  retina.  I  was  occupying  the  front  side  of 
the  bed  at  first,  and  how  the  exchange  of  sides  was  made 
so  suddenly,  Byron  must  tell.  The  savage  first  approached 
the  fire-place,  then  turned  square  to  the  right,  placing 
one  hand  on  the  table  that  was  standing  in  front  of  our 
bunk,  he  leaned  over  to  take  a  good  squint,  as  if  to  spot 
his  victim,  snoring  away  the  last  nap  in  the  morning. 

At  the  instant  the  young  brave  first  stumbled  into  the 
dugout  I  whispered  to  Mr.  Byron,  4 ‘Tell  him  I’m  out.” 
In  the  meantime  my  bunk-mate  assumed  a  sitting 
posture  in  bed,  throwing  the  top  robes  carelessly  over 
me  in  such  a  manner  that  I  entirely  escaped  the  notice 
of  Pawnee  Killer.  By  this  time  the  two  hunters  had 
almost  dressed,  save  the  buckling  on  of  their  belts  with 
hunting  knives  and  revolvers.  Several  articles  of  dress 
very  much  resembled  my  own  were  in  turn  picked  up  and 
closely  examined,  especially  the  buffalo  overcoat  so 
nearly  like  my  own  (though  red-lined,  mine  being  blue), 
was  the  second  time  picked  up  and  minutely  scrutinized. 
And  not  until  Mr.  Byron  stated  two  or  three  times: 
“Oallaishmae  wasuche  donka  tepee,”  motioning  with 
the  hand  over  across  the  track,  (Ogalla,  white  man’s 
house),  signifying  that  I  was  over  at  the  Entriken  estab¬ 
lishment  where  they  saw  me  in  the  evening,  did  he  take 
his  leave. 

Deep  breathings  of  relief  were  quite  audible  all  round 
for  a  few  moments.  The  two  hunters  took  their  stations 


“I  AM  TH£  man,  sir!”  1 13 

at  the  entrance,  one  above  and  one  below,  as  requested, 
with  instructions  not  to  allow  anyone  to  come  inside, 
while  Byron  and  myself  were  preparing  the  breakfast,  of 
which  we  all  partook  quite  freely.  Shortly  after  day¬ 
light  Young  Pawnee  Killer  was  observed,  mounted  upon 
an  Indian  pony,  and  rapidly  riding  from  the  station 
towards  the  Indian  village  on  Lodge  Pole  creek,  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  distant,  consisting  of  about  twenty  lodges, 
among  which  was  that  of  the  mother  of  the  well-known 
half-breed,  Andy  Barrett,  whose  father  was  a  Mexican. 

Andy  was  not  very  brilliant,  though  possessed  of  ordi¬ 
nary  common  sense  when  out  of  reach  of  liquor.  I  had 
always  treated  him  kindly,  and  many  a  time  he  proved 
useful  in  a  trade  with  the  reds.  Poor  fellow,  he  is  now 
numbered  with  the  mystic  hunters  on  the  other  shore, 
having  been  ruthlessly  cut  down  by  his  swarthy  Indian 
brother  in  a  fit  of  jealousy. 

I  at  once  dispatched  a  messenger  down  to  the  village 
to  have  Andy  come  up  immediately.  In  a  very  brief  in¬ 
terval  he  put-in  an  appearance  at  the  door.  He  did  not 
take  time  to  respond  to  the  good-morning  greetings,  but 
commenced  at  once  inquiring  about  some  trouble  that 
had  happened  in  Julesburg  last  evening,  evidently  not 
knowing  that  the  parties  addressed  were  seriously 
interested. 

“Who  was  it  that  Pawnee  Killer  was  going  to  kill  last 
night,  and  Little  Bear  wouldn’t  let  him?”  he  asked. 

“I  am  the  man,  sir,”  said  I. 

“Oh,  no;  Pawnee  Killer  wanted  to  kill  an  Indian  last 
night,  but  Little  Bear  prevented  it.” 

“Yes,  yes;  understand,  I  am  the  very  party  that  they 


114 


ALMOST  PARALYZED  HIM. 


tried  to  get  away  with  last  night.  Little  Bear  was  at 
the  head  of  the  whole  plot,  but  at  the  most  critical  point 
their  opportunity  was  given  away  for  what  they  supposed 
to  be  a  better  one,  induced  by  the  immediate  presence  of 
D.  W.  Street  with  his  double  load  of  six’  ready  in 
hand.” 

“Can  it  be  possible?  I  am  going  right  back  to  the 
village  to  find  out.  Pawnee  Killer  is  there,”  and  he 
wheeled  around  to  go. 

“Wait  a  little,  Andy.  This  is  precisely  the  reason  I 
sent  for  you.  But  I  want  you  to  have  breakfast  first  and 
then  go  down  and  learn  all  about  the  affair  and  their  in¬ 
tentions  to-day  if  you  can.  I  will  reward  you  hand¬ 
somely  for  it.” 

Breakfast  was  steadily  refused  until  the  truth  of  the 
whole  affair  was  brought  to  light.  Andy  was  not  long 
in  ascertaining  the  facts,  which  seemed  to  almost  para¬ 
lyze  him,  to  think  that  Ogallaishmea  had  only  barely 
escaped  being  massacred  by  those  three  savages,  and  the 
danger  still  pending  unless  the  bloody  trio  could  be  forced, 
if  not  induced,  to  go  home  to  Lodge  Pole  station  and 
behave  themselves.  As  he  drank  his  coffee,  and  ate  his 
buffalo  steak  and  crackers,  we  were  told  that  High  Bear 
would  be  up  soon  to  learn  more  of  the  disturbance. 

High  Bear  was  one  of  the  good  Indians  at  that  time, 
and  a  chief  soldier  among  them,  whose  command  was 
imperative,  a  regular  double-fisted  bruiser — two  hundred 
and  thirty  pounds  avoirdupois,  all  bone  and  sinew. 

It  is  to  this  stalwart  that  Brown,  the  Sub-Indian 
Agent,  against  whom  some  of  the  tribe  had  treasured  a 
deadly  hatred,  owes  his  life.  Because  Brown  did  not 


THE  SLAUGHTER  LASTED  HOURS.  1 1 5 

seem  to  them  to  have  the  power  with  the  Great  Father 
at  Washington  to  have  car  loads  of  Government  bacon 
and  flour  dished  out  to  them,  he  should  be  put  out  of  the 
way.  This  affair  happened  a  little  way  from  here,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Platte.  Brown  had  turned  out  to 
the  Indian  hunters — about  seventy  in  number — a  bunch 
of  fat  cattle.  It  was  easily  to  be  seen  that  all  was  not  as 
it  ought  to  be  by  the  manner  in  which,  they  grouped  to¬ 
gether  for  private  consultation  previous  to  accepting  the 
cattle. 

Presently  the  entire  Indian  force  sallied  forth,  mounted 
upon  their  best  ponies,  brandishing  their  carbines,  re¬ 
volvers,  bows  and  arrows,  making  the  rolling  prairies  re¬ 
echo  their  unearthly  war-whoops,  and  surrounding  the 
cattle  commenced  slaying  them  as  they  would  a  herd  of 
buffalo.  The  chase  and  slaughter  lasted  several  hours; 
their  fastest  ponies  could  not  keep  pace  with  some  of  the 
fleetest  Texas  steers,  hence  the  relief  system.  Brown, 
of  course,  was  not  long  in  comprehending  his  situation, 
and  would  dodge  the  keen  whistle  of  the  deadly  missiles 
as  they  flew  thick  all  around.  Of  course  the  savages 
kept  no  account  of  Brown!  They  were  killing  “taga- 
liska,”  taking  good  care,  however,  to  fire  only  when  in 
good  range  with  Brown.  The  two  Bears,  High  and 
Three,  rushed  up  to  Brown,  bidding  him  keep  close  up 
to  them,  and  thus  shielded  he  escaped  the  murderous 
intent  of  those  pampered  Government  savages. 

This  over,  Brown  and  the  two  chiefs  started  to  go 
about  a  mile  or  so  to  a  small  stream  of  water,  the  camp¬ 
ing  ground  of  two  or  three  hundred  Indians.  They  had 
not  proceeded  far,  just  over  the  ridge,  when  a  wagon 


Il6  TWO  DIED  BEFORE  MORNING 

and  team  of  horses  were  observed  a  short  distance  ahead 
surrounded  by  a  menacing  group  of  red  skins.  A  white 
man,  to  be  sure, — Mr.  Mayfield,  an  old  buffalo  hunter. 
The  Indians  had  cut  into  pieces  his  entire  lot  of  some 
forty  robe  hides,  and  one  of  the  reds,  with  a  steel- 
pointed  arrow  in  a  bow  drawn  to  the  highest  tension, 
was  just  in  the  act  of  sending  it  through  the  heart  of  the 
unfortunate  man  when  High  Bear  galloped  up  in  the 
rear  of  the  savage  and  with  a  powerful  stroke  upon  his 
flat  cranium,  sent  him  sprawling  upon  the  ground.  Sev¬ 
eral  others  were  clubbed  before  getting  out  of  reach  of 
these  two  Catholic-like  peacemakers. 

That  night  the  Indians  were  determined  on  sending 
Brown  to  the  “  happy  hunting  ground.”  The  friendly 
Indians  seemed  to  use  every  precaution  to  save  him. 
Early  in  the  evening,  when  all  were  circled  about  the 
buffalo-chip  fire  in  the  middle  of  the  lodge,  Brown  being 
pretty  close  to  the  side  of  the  tent,  though  not  quite 
touching  the  canvas,  his  shadow  was  taken  for  the  man, 
and  a  long  steel  blade  was  sent  glistening  through  the 
tent,  but  failed  of  its  purpose.  Joined  by  several  others 
they  set  in  to  cut  the  lodge  down  over  their  heads. 
This  act  raised  High  Bear’s  blood  to  a  boiling  heat,  and 
seizing  the  green  cottonwood  billet  that  lay  roasting  on 
the  coals,  he,  though  in  one  sense  a  cripple — one  leg 
being  about  four  inches  shorter  than  the  other — was  not 
long  in  making  good  use  of  it.  Seven  of  the  enraged 
bloods  were  knocked  down  and  two  of  them  died  before 
morning.  It  may  seem  strange  to  some  not  acquainted 
with  the  savage  Siouxs  and  Cheyennes  that  such  arbi¬ 
trary  measures  dared  to  be  enforced .  Such,  however,  is 


‘  'SILVER  THREADS  AMONG  THE  GOLD.  ”  II 7 

the  case,  and  that  too  with  perfect  indifference  as  to  their 
own  safety.  Brown  solemnly  avers  that  with  this  trip 
and  bit  of  experience  with  the  untutored  savage  on  the 
plains,  dates  with  him  the  real  origin  of  the  ‘  'silver 
threads  among  the  gold.  ” 

In  due  course  of  time  this  Magnet  Chief  of  the  war¬ 
riors,  (High  Bear),  with  a  grin  of  eagerness  put  in  an 
appearance  at  the  dugout  entrance,  and  with  a  How, 
how!  unceremoniously  bowed  himself  in. 

The  first  thing  on  the  programme,  to  be  sure,  was  the 
quaffing  down  of  a  quart  or  more  of  boiling  hot  coffee,  a 
few  pounds  of  buffalo  hump  and  a  liberal  filling  up  of 
crackers  (a  mere  bite  of  refreshments  till  a  full  meal  was 
prepared).  The  old  warrior  seemed  anxious  to  get  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  affair,  making  minute  inquiry  as 
to  the  strange  conduct  of  the  young  braves  the  previous 
evening  as  well  as  the  following  morning  —  finally  with 
an  arrogant  tossing  of  his  massive  copper  colored  cran¬ 
ium,  well  decorated  with  a  heavy  coat  of  long,  straight, 
jet  black  hair,  intermingled  with  numerous  highly  colored 
wing  feathers  of  wild  fowls  from  the  snow  bird  to  the 
eagle,  he  said. 

“Loy-al-a-ea-walkepemeny  ishtimel,”  indicating  that 
in  a  short  interval  he  would  whoop  these  bad  boys  home 
or  to  the  agency,  in  the  mean  time  giving  his  assurance 
that  no  further  fears  from  them  need  be  apprehended. 

-The  news  soon  spread  throughout  the  neighboring 
villages  along  the  Platte  and  up  Pole  creek,  as  indicated 
by  the  scores  of  young  savages  in  full  battle  array  throng¬ 
ing  our  little  burg  that  morning;  all  seem  to  be  searching 
for  or  trying  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  some  particular  one 


HIGH  BEAR  PREVAILED. 


just  then  of  more  interest  to  them  than  any  body  else. 
I  felt  not  a  little  uneasy  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken, 
and  lost  to  know  how  best  to  meet  the  case,  until  Andy, 
(the  half-bred),  after  spending  a  couple  hours  among  the 
mottled  crowd,  re-entered  our  dugout  and  detailed  to  us 
the  only  real  safe  plan  for  me  to  pursue  under  the  exist¬ 
ing  circumstances — which  was  to  present  a  bold  front, 
go  right  out  among  them  apparently  careless  and  uncon¬ 
cerned,  as  if  nothing  of  unusual  note  had  occurred,  carry¬ 
ing  no  weapons  of  defense  of  any  description — that  the 
Indians  might  see  and  thereby  know  (?)  that  Ogallaish- 
mea  didn’t  care  a  snap  one  way  or  the  other,  (if  he  was 
at  that  time  trembling  in  his  very  boots). 

It  was  some  considerable  time  ere  the  full  consent  of 
my  own  mind  was  obtained  to  comply  with  this  (sup¬ 
posed)  wild  freak  of  Andy’s.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I 
could  not  do  it,  yet  I  crawled  out  of  my  secure  quarters 
in  full  view  of  the  brawling  savages.  Andy  Barrett,  as 
well  as  a  couple  of  hunters,  had  his  eyes  upon  me,  but 
what  could  that  avail,  thought  I,  should  the  reds  enter¬ 
tain  a  purpose  to  perform  the  worst  at  any  moment. 
Neither  of  the  trio  was  to  be  seen  in  the  crowd  any¬ 
where,  which  gave  pretty  good  satisfaction  that  High 
Bear  prevailed. 

The  atmospheric  conditions  somehow  seemed  less  con¬ 
genial  than  common,  so  I  was  not  much  and  of  a  truth 
made  myself  scare  for  several  days,  till  the  Indians  all 
left  for  Lodge  Pole  station,  18  miles  west,  and  Sub- 
Agent  Brown  visited  us  again. 

There  had  quite  a  number  of  the  hunters  arrived  to¬ 
wards  the  latter  part  of  the  week,  and  on  Saturday  as  I 


ALL  FOR  FIVE  DOLLARS. 


119 

was  standing  at  Entriken’s  desk  writing  a  letter,  who 
should  surprise  us  more  when  the  door  opened  than  the 
very  presence  of  the  giant  form  of  the  old  General  him¬ 
self,  father  of  the  young  would  be-assassin,  Pawnee 
Killer,  wearing  a  haggard  and  careworn  expression.  He 
stepped  stately  forward  to  the  stove  and  turned  gravely 
around  uttering  not  a  word;  but  catching  a  glimpse  of 
the  object  of  his  worst  hatred  he  left  the  room  instantly. 
There  were  perhaps  twenty  white  hunters  in  the  room, 
also  Brown.  In  a  little  while  my  friend  Andy  stepped 
in,  and  addressing  himself  to  me  said  : 

“You  have  a  chance  to  save  your  life  now  if  you  want 
— all  for  about  five  dollars.  ” 

“How  is  that,  Andy  ?”  said  I,  somewhat  hastily 

“Why,  Little  Bear,  from  Lodge  Pole,  has  come  down 
and  is  willing  to  make  peace.” 

“Now,”  interrupted  Brown,  good  humoredly,  “if  you 
value  your  life  anything  at  all,  is  the  time  to  act.” 

Andy  explained  the  matter  more  fully,  stating  that  he 
had  been  conversing  with  Little  Bear  and  the  old  man 
[meaning  Pawnee  Killer],  and  found  out  that  for  about 
five  dollars’  worth  of  sugar,  coffee,  crackers,  bacon  and 
tobacco  perfect  good  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  dreaded 
trio,  especially  Little  Bear  and  Pawnee  Killer,  can  be 
restored. 

“Where  are  they  now,  Andy?” 

“Little  Bear  is  over  in  the  telegraph  office  and  the 
old  man  is  in  Leech’s  store.” 

I  felt  more  than  willing  to  give  Andy  the  money  and 
let  him  fix  the  matter  up  for  me,  but  this,  Andy  said 
would  not  work,  and  as  the  Indians  wanted  me  over  at 


120  LITTLE  BEAR  WISHING  TO  MAKE  FRIENDS. 

the  office  there  was  no  alternative  for  me.  The  only 
thing  to  fear  was  treachery.  Brown  voluntered  to  ac¬ 
company  us,  so  with  one  on  each  side,  and  D.  H.  Street 
behind,  we  marched  over  to  the  railroad  platform  and 
the  outlay  of  $4. 75  was  made  for  the  gladdening  power  of 
the  Indian  heart  and  laid  on  the  platform  in  the  care  of 
a  third  redskin. 

‘‘Now,”  said  Andy,  “come  in  and  make  friends/’ 
leading  off. 

I  followed  him  into  the  office,  where  was  standing  the 
tall,  dark-visaged  Little  Bear  with  one  attendant.  Both 
shunned  a  direct  look,  and  not  until  Andy  had  fully  ex¬ 
plained  matters  did  the  dusky  savage  venture  to  speak 
or  take  any  notice  of  the  immediate  presence  of  Ogall- 
alla.  The  acceptance  of  the  peace  offering  was  evi¬ 
denced  by  the  big  “How,”  and  the  hearty  good  hand 
shake  that  immediately  followed. 

“Me  heart  no  good.  Locota  washtello.” 

He  wished  me  to  understand  that  though  he  himself 
was  a  good  Indian,  his  heart  had  been  a  little  bad. 

“Nea  washta  me  washtello.”  (You  good,  me  very 
good;  white  man  good,  but  Indian  was  better). 

Then  he  commenced  in  real  good  earnest  to  plead  and 
to  explain,  that  as  he  was  now  soon  to  start  to  his  sum¬ 
mer  home — walkapomeny — and  on  his  way  would  pass 
many  ranches  and  white  men  who  having  heard  of  this 
trouble  would  not  treat  him  good;  that  they  would  give 
him  no  “chehompa,  pasutasopa,  cook-oo-su,  tagaliska 
and  su-me-a-pe  spurn,”  (sugar,  coffee,  bacon,  beef  and 
crackers),  and  wanted  me  to  give  him  a  paper  with 
writing  testifying  to  his  excellency,  peaceableness  and 


WRITING  A  NOTE. 


12 1 


general  good  behavior — in  short  a  penning  down  in  black 
and  white  of  his  credentials.  Of  course  I  could  see  no 
impropriety  in  this,  and  therefore  took  one  of  the  largest 
sheets  of  paper  I  could  find  in  the  office  of  the  Union 
Pacific  company,  and  commenced  writing  down  what  I 
thought  might  be  useful  to  some  poor  ranchman  on  the 
line  of  march  for  the  treacherous  rascal. 

[facsimile  copy.] 

The  bearer,  Little  Bear,  wishes  to  be  regarded  as  a 
good  Indian,  but  don’t  you  trust  him — not  even  as  far  as 
you  can  see.  Any  one’s  life  is  at  risk  who  crosses  his 
path.  He  has  been  to  Washington  City  a  couple  times, 
and  is  indeed  a  sharp,  shrewd  redskin  and  will  take  the 
life  of  a  pale  face  for  a  small  offense  just  as  readily  as 
for  a  great  offense. 

I  folded  it  up  and  carefully  placed  it  in  a  large  red 
tape  official  envelope  and  handed  it  to  the  hero.  With 
many  thanks  he  folded  it  away  in  a  couple  yards  of  red 
calico,  to  be  exhibited  to  all  whites  from  whom  plenty 
of  the  necessaries  of  life  was  expected  to  be  forthcoming. 
This  style  of  credentials  is  quite  extensively  carried  by 
the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes,  which  furnishes  a  splendid 
guide  to  the  whites. 

Some  time  prior  to  this  affair  an  old  chief  by  the  name 
of  “White  Crane  Walking”  sent  for  me  to  come  and 
visit  his  lodge  at  his  camp.  So  one  evening  I  thought  I 
would  call  on  his  highness.  I  tossed  the  flap  of  the  en¬ 
trance  to  one  side,  and  stooping  low,  stepped  in.  A 
nearty  welcome  was  extended.  The  coals  were  quickly 
raked  together  and  a  kettle  of  game  and  coffee  pot  were 
soon  set  agoing. 


122  “IGNORANCE  IS  TRULY  BLISS.” 

While  the  feast  was  being  prepared  the  old  chief 
seemed  to  take  great  pleasure  in  presenting  his  creden¬ 
tials.  He  had  three  or  four  official  documents  tied  up  in 
softly  tanned  deer  skins.  They  have  no  knowledge  what¬ 
ever  of  the  contents  of  the  papers  they  carry,  but  form 
some  little  idea  from  the  impressiom  or  effect  it  has 
upon  the  countenance  of  the  party  to  whom  the  docu¬ 
ment  is  handed  to  for  perusal.  Upon  this  occasion  the 
letter  shown  to  me  purported  to  be  written  by  some 
army  officer  as  early  as  1865.  It  detailed  the  trouble 
that  the  old  fellow  had  given  the  government,  and  that 
he  was  very  treacherous  and  had  taken  not  a  few  white 
scalps  in  his  time,  but  now  claimed  to  be  a  better  friend 
of  the  pale  face  and  wished  to  be  given  many  presents 
and  plenty  to  eat  by  all  the  whites.  After  reading  it  all 
over  I  said  “Washtello,”  (good),  which  was  very  elating 
to  the  old  Indian’s  heart.  The  others  he  thought  best 
not  to  exhibit.  Perhaps  they  elicited  a  less  frequent 
response  of  “washtello.” 

Some  of  the  savages  carry  papers  obtained  from  poor 
emigrants  and  others,  giving  full  accounts  of  the  most 
cruel  treatment  and  heart-sickening  massacres.  The 
idea  of  carrying  these  papers  was  caused  by  the  govern¬ 
ment  putting  certain  peaceably  disposed  Indian  sub¬ 
chiefs  in  authority  over  others  of  a  warlike  tendency, 
and  thus  furnish  them  with  written  authority  that  officers 
and  soldiers  of  the  army  might  always  know  them. 
Chiefs  promoted  in  this  way,  and  often  kept  in  authority 
by  military  force  until  the  matter  became  a  recognized 
fact,  had  the  tendency  to  inspire  with  a  desire  to  carry 
official  papers.  Poor  fellows !  Ignorance,  to  them,  is 
indeed  truly  bliss. 


HAD  AN  EYE  TO  BUSINESS. 


123 


Little  Bear  returned  to  Lodge  Pole  in  high  glee. 
I  have  not  seen  him  since,  traveling  perhaps  on  his  cre¬ 
dentials,  if  not  gone  long  ago  to  the  happy  hunting 
ground,  for  many  are  the  number  that  have  bitten  the 
dust  since  the  Custer  Massacre. 

Little  Bear  was  one  of  the  Indians  that  had  an  eye  to 
business  and  money-making.  His  scheme  to  get  me 
into  the  Black  Hills  country  with  him  was  a  well  con¬ 
trived  affair.  Upon  the  occasion  of  one  of  his  earlier 
friendly  visits  to  my  lodgings,  late  in  the  evening, 
he  seemed  to  want  to  communicate  something  wonder¬ 
ful,  wished  the  door  closed  and  fastened,  the  fire  some¬ 
what  dimmed  and  the  lamp  turned  low. 

We  sat  down  side  by  side;  he  with  elbows  resting  on 
his  knees,  smoking  his  pipe.  He  turned  to  me  and 
spoke  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  as  if  the  very  walls  and 
dirt  roof,  had  ears  that  should  not  listen  to  his  utterings. 

“Soppa  donka  chisilla  ota,  ota,”  (in  the  Black  Hills 
there  is  gold  dust  in  great  quantities.)  And  then  he 
represented  the  country  where  he  saw  so  much  fine  gold, 
by  saying  the  water  rushed  down  in  a  cascade  and  in 
like  manner  over  rich  gold  bearing  quartz  rock,  and  that 
a  little  ways  below  he  waded  in  the  stream,  and  could 
scoop  up  a  wagon-box  full  of  gold  dust  in  a  very  short 
time .  And  for  doing  this  for  me  he  wanted  to  know 
how  many  ponies  I  was  willing  to  give  him. 

One  hundred  was  his  price,  but  finally  he  agreed  to 
fill  a  wagon  box  for  fifty  good  ponies. 

In  five  sleeps  at  midnight  we  were  to  start,  so  that  no 
one  should  see  us  go,  for  it  would  be  sure  death  to  him 
to  pilot  white  men  into  that  land  of  gold,  since  their 


124  HAD  HER  SKULL  SPLIT  OPEN. 

great  fear  was,  that  once  known  to  the  pale  face,  they 
could  no  longer  retain  their  country — a  fact  since  de¬ 
monstrated. 

One  poor  squaw  had  her  skull  split  open  with  a  toma¬ 
hawk  in  the  hands  of  one  of  her  own  kin,  for  trading  a 
$30  gold  nugget  for  a  few  yards  of  calico,  and  a  couple 
of  quarts  of  corn  meal.  That  there  was  lots  of  the  prec¬ 
ious  metal  in  that  region  of  the  country,  but  little  doubt 
remained  for  not  only  a  few  but  many  of  their  number 
had  in  their  possession  quantities  of  it  varying  in  value 
from  $5  to  $100. 

I  went  down  to  the  village  on  Lodge  Pole  one  after¬ 
noon  to  look  after  some  robes  that  were  being  tanned 
there  for  me,  and  was  met  near  the  tepes  by  and  old, 
old  Indian  in  a  state  of  almost  entire  nudity,  very  feeble 
and  dim-sighted. 

He  had  spied  me  approaching  their  camp  and  had 
come  out  a  little  ways  to  meet  me.  The  young  men 
were  all  off  on  a  hunt,  and  the  squaws  were  busily  en¬ 
gaged  chipping  away  at  the  buffalo  hides,  stretched  out 
on  the  sod.  I  could  not  imagine  why  he  was  so  cautious 
about  keeping  hid  from  the  sight  of  those  so  busily  en¬ 
gaged  at  camp.  I  was  about  to  pass  when  he  beckoned 
me  to  come  to  him.  I  shall  never  forget  the  expression 
of  countenance  as  he  gazed  up  into  my  face  from  his 
crouched  down  posture  in  a  half  doubting  and  half  con¬ 
fiding  look  —  tremblingly  saying,  me  sick,  me  ocenea, 
(sick  and  old.)  To  convey  to  me  his  age  he  held  up  his 
hands  with  spread  out  fingers,  alternately  opening  and 
closing  them  ten  times — the  last — keeping  three  of  the 
left  hand  down.  Ninety-seven  summers  and  winters  had 
passed  over  his  head. 


WHISKEY  FOR  TRADE. 


125 


He  appeared  to  have  a  firm  grip  on  one  corner  of  his 
old  blue  blanket,  the  only  article  of  apparel  about  him. 
He  very  cautiously  took  from  it  two  small  parcels,  con¬ 
sisting  of  a  piece  of  buckskin  with  the  corners  of  each 
securely  tied  together.  One  of  the  articles  he  placed 
under  his  elbow  that  rested  on  his  knee,  the  other  was 
opened  and  placed  in  his  hand,  then  with  another  pene¬ 
trating  glare  he  extended  his  right  hand  for  a  shake,  in  the 
meantime  saying,  “how  cola,  (friend)  how.”  Then  ven¬ 
turing  to  reach  to  me  the  opened  package  further  re¬ 
marked,  “swap  mimewalka,”  (trade  for  whiskey.)  Upon 
inspection  I  found  that  there  was  about  $30  of  coarse 
gold  dust  in  each  parcel,  which  was  of  no  value  to  him, 
and  he  would  swap  it  whether  or  no  for  two  pop  bottles 
full  of  fire-water  to  cheer  and  gladden  his  sad  and  weary 
heart  in  the  dark  and  dreary  evening  of  life. 


CHAPTER  II. 

KILLED  ONE  HUNDRED  AND  TWO  INDIANS 

It  was  at  Julesburg  that  the  acquaintance  with  the 
Goodwin  boys,  George  and  Calvin,  was  formed.  These 
men,  heads  of  families,  whose  homes  were  fifty  miles  up 
the  river,  were  regular  buffalo  hunters,  having  been  en¬ 
gaged  in  the  business  of  slaying  buffalo  and  other  large 
game,  from  boyhood — following  in  the  wake  of  the  vast 
herds  from  the  time  they  commence  moving  southward, 
in  the  Fall,  till  their  return  in  the  Spring — trips  even  less 
unfrequently  attended  with  the  usual  peril  incident  to 
frontier  life,  in  consequence  of  the  superabundance  of 
wild  savages  in  quiet  search,  not  so  much  for  quadrupeds 
as  for  bipeds  of  the  genus  homo  type,  with  a  decided 
preference  for  long-haired  specimens,  as  will  be  shown  in 
a  future  chapter;  which  gives  Calvin  Goodwin’s  own 
account  of  his  having  to  compel  one  hundred  and  two 
Indians  to  bite  the  dust  in  one  hundred  and  one  shots, 
from  his  70-grain  Sharp’s  sporting  rifle,  in  order  to  save 
his  own  life.  Listening  to  the  thrilling  adventures  and 
exciting  sports  in  the  buffalo  chase,  and  being  informed 
that  countless  thousands  of  those  huge  animals  ranged 
but  a  day’s  journey  up  the  Platte,  made  me  only  too 
anxious  to  get  among  them.  The  next  morning,  after 
the  Goodwins  disposed  of  their  respective  loads  of  robes, 
hides  and  wolf  pelts,  I  joined  them  on  their  return  up 
the  Platte  valley,  keeping  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river. 
The  road  had  its  crooks  and  turns  as  well  as  the  river, 

(126) 


A  HOWLING  WELCOME.  127 

but  in  direct  opposition  to  one  another,  so  that,  at  times, 
we  were  fully  a  half-mile  from  the  river,  on  the  banks  of 
which  were  plainly  visible  the  smoked  tepes  of  the  sav¬ 
ages,  in  villages  varying  from  one  to  five  miles  apart. 
The  cartridge  rifle  that  I  brought  along  from  Ohio,  and 
with  which  I  expected  to  do  wonders  among  the  wilds  of 
the  West,  now  dwindled  into  comparative  insignificance 
by  the  side  of  the  70,  90  and  120-grain  guns,  shooting 
ounce  balls.  The  greatest  quandary  with  me  was  how  I 
might  put  an  end  to  the  derision  the  "grasshopper  pop¬ 
gun”  seemed  to  elicit  from  the  old  buffalo  hunters-  Mr. 
George  Goodwin  suggested  that  I  might  trade  it  off  to 
some  Indian  boy  for  a  robe  or  two,  and  for  this  purpose 
we  pulled  over  to  one  of  the  Indian  camps.  Previous  to 
doing  so,  however,  (since  the  Indian  is  an  expert  on  fire¬ 
arms)  it  was  thought  advisable  to  provide  for  a  defect 
the  little  rifle  was  heir  to,  that  of  requiring  two  strokes  of 
the  hammer  to  send  the  bullet  out.  Consequently  a 
cartridge  was  placed  in  the  chamber  and  helped  along 
by  giving  it  a  preliminary  snap.  Our  approach  to  the 
village  was  signaled  by  the  deafening  howls  of  more  than 
a  hundred  curs  of  all  sizes  and  colors.  And  in  a  very 
brief  interval  our  wagon  was  surrounded  by  an  equally 
mottled  group  of  the  villagers,  the  later  characteristic 
due  principally  to  the  various  shades  of  their  wrappings, 
from  the  crude  flour  sack  to  the  costly  beaver.  It  all 
remained  with  Goodwin  as  to  what  should  be  done,  he 
having  a  smattering  of  the  Sioux  language,  which  to  my¬ 
self,  at  that  time,  was  a  dead  letter.  The  most  promi¬ 
nent  looking  savage  among  them  was  "Fire-lightning,” 
who  seemed  to  take  a  fancy  to  the  little  rifle,  doubtless  for 


128  A  BUFFALO  ROBE  FOR  A  GUN. 

his  son,  a  lad  of  about  fourteen  summers.  Another  Indian 
had  proposed  first  for  a  trade,  offering  one  and  then  two 
robes  for  the  gun  and  ammunition,  but  promptly  refused 
by  Goodwin,  saying  that  he  wanted  three.  There  is 
something  singular  about  the  Indians  when  trading.  It 
seems  to  be  an  invariable  rule  among  them,  that 
when  any  of  them  are  on  a  swap  all  the  others  appear  to 
urge  the  trade,  no  matter  how  anxious  either  of  them 
may  want  the  same  article — -no  interference  whatever, 
and  as  was  manifested  in  this  case — for  no  sooner  had 
the  first  Indian  picked  up  his  two  robes  exclaiming,  “No 
swap,”  than  the  Chief,  Fire- lightning,  threw  up  his  hand 
and  remarked:  “Swap!”  “Lonka  Bushalo,  Sela-washta 
Igilaka” — meaning  that  he  had  a  fine  big  buffalo  robe  to 
trade  on  a  gun  for  his  boy,  and  in  a  few  moments  spread 
out  one  of  the  finest  painted  robes  that  I  had  ever  seen. 
Of  course,  the  old  fellow  wanted  to  shoot  a  couple  of 
times,  but  our  time  being  limited,  he  was  allowed  only 
one  shot,  the  bullet  striking  the  water  in  line  with,  and  just 
beyond,  the  black  snag  in  the  river,  a  few  hundred  yards 
distant.  It  was  a  pleasing  test — an  accidental  shot 
thought  I.  An  Indian  won’t  have  a  bad  gun  if  he  knows 
it,  though  more  of  that  kind  would  enable  the  escape  of 
more  whites  when  raided  upon  by  these  hungry  scalp- 
takers,  which  is  too  often  the  case. 

In  due  time  I  became  the  owner  of  a  buffalo  gun, 
and  the  next  thing  in  order  was  to  know  how  well  it 
would  perform  the  work.  And  for  this  purpose  we 
had  a  fair  opportunity  to  test  its  merits,  soon  after  our 
arrival  at  the  home  of  the  Goodwins.  During  our  wake¬ 
ful  hours  at  night,  we  lay  thinking  of  the  conquests  we 


DOUBLING  UP  ON  THEM. 


129 


hoped  to  make  the  next  day.  I  was  up  bright  and  early 
on  the  outlook  for  the  coveted  game,  and  my  expecta¬ 
tions  were  fully  realized,  from  the  fact  that  I  did  not 
have  to  look  in  vain.  The  buffalo  had  come  in  from  the 
bluffs  to  the  river  in  the  night  and  had  not  started  back. 
The  valley  at  this  point  on  the  north  side  is  about  two 
miles  in  width.  The  best  showing  would  have  been 
down  the  valley,  since  there  was  a  gentle  breeze  blowing 
from  below,  but  as  the  Goodwin  boys  and  Mr.  Springer 
were  intending  to  work  at  a  house  down  the  river  that 
morning,  I  decided  to  do  my  killing  above.  The  near¬ 
est  herd,  numbering  about  twenty,  was  not  over  thirty 
rods  away.  I  walked  squarely  up  to  within  a  couple 
hundred  yards  of  them,  before  they  took  any  notice  of 
my  approach.  They  then  commenced  to  twist  their  tails 
and  move  about,  keeping  closely  bunched.  Pretty  soon 
the  little  herd  headed  toward  the  bluffs,  slightly  length¬ 
ening  the  distance  to  them.  I  did  not  deem  it  necessary 
to  get  into  a  ‘  ‘splutter/’  as  there  were  thousands  of  them 
in  sight  and  the  day  before  me .  I  had  never  hunted 
game  of  such  dimensions  before  and  knew  very  little 
concerning  the  habits  and  nature  of  the  buffalo.  And, 
indeed,  just  then  cared  but  little  to  know  more.  My 
greatest  anxiety  being  to  slay  a  few  of  them  and  write 
the  joyful  news  home.  To  follow  them  into  the  bluffs 
(which  was  nothing  more  than  rolling  prairie)  would 
seem  to  be  the  best  idea  in  order  to  get  a  close  shot. 
The  motion  of  this  lot  had  the  tendency  to  set  in  motion 
many  others,  all  drifting  back  into  the  hills.  As  soon  as 
the  herd  disappeared  behind  the  first  sand  ridge  in  the 
foot-hills,  I  quickened  pace  to  double  up  on  them.  The 


130  Wolves  on  all  siDE§. 

herd,  however,  had  become  slightly  excited;  perhaps 
had  scented  me  on  the  air,  for  upon  gaining  the  bluffs 
they  started  off  at  a  lively  pace.  I  traveled  about  a  half 
mile  further;  could  have  killed  a  number  of  antelope, 
but  I  was  not  satisfied  with  anything  short  of  a  buffalo. 
Everything  looked  wild  up  there;  the  earth  seemed  to 
swarm  with  animal  life.  Wolves  on  all  sides,  barking 
and  howling.  There  were  lots  of  swifts  (a  specie  of 
wolf),  badgers,  skunks,  and  even  raccoon,  with  seemingly 
no  end  to  the  number  of  prairie  dogs.  Not  a  tree  could 
be  seen  in  any  direction,  save  those  on  the  island  in  the 
broad  Platte. 

I  was  taking  a  good  survey  of  my  situation,  of  the  sur¬ 
rounding  and  lay  of  the  country  in  general,  when  turning 
to  look  back  and  a  little  to  the  right  of  where  I  was 
standing,  I  caught  sight  of  first  one,  then  two  more  fine 
buffalo  moving  right  towards  me.  I  dropped  slightly 
back  below  the  bank  near  by  and  awaited  their  coming. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  were  within  seventy  yards  or  less, 
and  tending  to  the  right,  up  the  draw  between  two  ridges. 
They  traveled  very  slowly,  feeding  occasionally  as  they 
went.  I  felt  just  then  as  though  I  could  handle  a  much 
larger  and  heavier  rifle,  although  my  confidence  in  the 
ounce  ball,  backed  by  seventy  grains  of  good  powder  in 
a  14-pound  needle  gun  was  implicit.  I  leveled  away  at 
the  first  buffalo.  The  ball  was  sure  to  hit,  for  the  target 
was  too  large  to  miss,  but  precisely  where,  my  limited 
practice  afforded  no  assurance.  I  heard  the  slug  strike, 
the  buffalo  humped  up  his  back  and  started  to  run  with 
the  other  two,  but  stopped  short,  turned  around  and  laid 
down  just  as  a  common  cow  does  at  night  to  rest.  The 


DANGER  IN  THE  AIR. 


131 

other  two  stopped  a  short  distance  off,  and  all  I  had  to  do 
was  to  keep  hid  and  get  a  little  closer.  When  within 
about  eighty  yards  I  fired  again,  inducing  another  to 
assume  a  similiar  position  to  that  of  the  first  one.  I  felt 
very  sure  that  there  were  not  as  many  wild  buffalo  on 
the  plains  by  two  as  what  there  were  a  few  minutes  pre¬ 
vious.  I  concluded,  as  the  business  seemed  to  be  an 
easy  one,  I  would  take  in  the  other  which  had  lit  out 
pretty  lively  when  the  second  tumbled.  Despite  all  the 
fast  running  done  to  cut  him  off,  the  old  fellow  crossed 
ahead  of  me  and  made  good  his  escape. 

I  proceeded  to  the  summit  of  one  of  the  most  promi¬ 
nent  hills  near  by,  which  afforded  quite  a  commanding 
view  for  twenty  miles  over  the  rolling  prairie,  which  as 
before  remarked,  was  alive  with  moving  objects.  In  one 
direction  from  where  I  stood  lay  a  scope  of  land  not  un¬ 
like  the  bed  of  a  dry  lake,  about  a  mile  in  diameter,  with 
a  heavy  growth  of  grass  increasing  in  length  towards  the 
center  to  about  twenty  inches.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
this  basin  I  discovered  a  herd  of  not  less  that  fifty  buffalo 
spread  out  right  and  left,  feeding  along  toward  the  south¬ 
west.  They  were  destined  to  pass  right  through  the 
middle  of  the  flat  and  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  secure  a 
position  in  the  tall  grass  in  front  of  the  drove  to  make 
sure  of  a  few  of  them.  The  wind  was  also  favorable, 
blowing  from  the  herd  forward.  No  time  was  unneces¬ 
sarily  lost  in  gaining  a  point  in  the  tallest  grass  in  advance 
of  the  game.  To  do  this  a  lively  gait  for  about  one-third 
of  a  mile  had  to  be  made,  and  then  a  crawl  upon  hands 
and  knees  for  a  couple  hundred  yards,  little  thinking  of 
the  danger  and  terrible  condition  that  awaited  me  a  little 
further  on. 


132 


CLOSER  THAN  DESIRABLE. 


My  greatest  anxiety  and  hope  was  now  fully  realized — 
that  of  being  able  to  place  myself  in  close  proximity  to 
the  approaching  herd  of  buffalo,  unnoticed  by  them,  in 
order  that  a  few  sure  shots  might  be  effected.  Pros¬ 
trated  at  full  length  upon  the  ground,  amidst  the  waving 
grass,  with  face  downward  and  head  resting  upon  left 
arm  for  a  last  steadying  of  the  nerves  so  important  for 
an  occasion  of  this  kind,  the  noise  of  the  moving  animals 
became  more  audible  than  it  otherwise  would — especially 
the  breathing  in  feeding  so  soon  after  watering. 

The  near  approach  of  so  many  huge  animals  of  the 
wild  kind,  of  which  I  knew  so  little  practically,  worked 
a  very  swift  change  in  the  situation;  the  herd  was  as 
close  as  I  cared  to  have  them  come,  and  to  stop  them 
for  a  side  shot  I  only  thought  it  necessary  to  shake  the 
grass  slightly,  but  finding  my  mistake,  I  raised  my  right 
arm  over  my  head  and  with  a  gentle  motioning  of  the 
hand  expected  to  check  them.  But,  alas,  the  onwardly 
moving  herd,  dull-eyed  and  deaf-eared  (thought  I)  to  all 
around,  kept  mowing  off  the  sweet  grass,  grunting  and 
blowing  away  in  their  forward  march,  less  that  fifty  yards 
distant,  and  heading  directly  toward  the  crouched-down 
modern  Nimrod,  who  hitherto  having  been  so  anxious  to 
get  a  real  close  shot,  was  quite  willing  to  risk  it  at  a 
range  less  close  than  even  now  afforded.  No  one  had 
for  a  moment  dreamed  that  they  were  such  revoltingly 
looking  monsters — claws,  to  be  sure,  with  carniverous 
teeth,  and  as  4  'Josh”  has  it,  ‘  ‘should  their  inability  to 
climb  a  tree  be  false,  even  that  mode  of  escape  was  ren¬ 
dered  ineffectual  by  a  treeless  country.”  No  marvel 
then,  that  (if  in  the  line  of  possibility)  a  fellow’s  hair 


THE  DANGER  AVERTED.  133 

should  raise  his  hat  from  his  head  and  be  seized  in  turn 
with  an  overwhelming  eagerness  for  present  as  well  as 
future  safety — for  one  day  more  at  least.  It  is  simply 
astonishing  to  note  the  velocity  of  thought  under  such 
trying  circumstances,  only  a  certain  kind,  however. 
Think  of  it!  Even  the  tossing  of  a  hat  into  the  uncon¬ 
genial  atmosphere  failed  of  its  purpose  to  avert  the  com¬ 
ing  danger;  for  to  wound  a  buffalo  so  near  at  hand, 
would  be  to  invite  a  position  more  perilous  than  I  cared 
to  place  myself  in,  with  no  better  chance  for  escape  than 
that  afforded  in  an  open  prairie.  It  would  have  been  a 
useless  waste  of  ammunition  to  have  aimed  a  shot  at  the 
thick,  tough,  convex  craniums  coming  straight  towards 
me,  knowing  as  I  did,  that  there  were  but  few  guns, 
rifles  only,  of  the  best  make,  that  were  powerful  enough 
to  reach  through  and  beyond  the  first  impediment — that 
of  an  inch  or  more  of  desert  sand  compactly  imbedded  at 
the  roots  of  the  dense  coat  of  long,  coarse,  curly  hair 
that  shrouds  the  entire  head  of  the  buffalo. 

I  had  read  of  stampeded  herds  of  buffalo  rushing 
right  over  whole  wagon  loads  of  emigrants  while 
traveling  on  this  great  American  desert,  teetotally 
crushing  everything  into  atoms,  and  I  believed  it,  too. 

It  was  not  until  I  bounced  up  in  full  view  immedi¬ 
ately  in  front  of  these  “ferocious-like”  looking  beasts, 
that  they  pretended  to  at  all  change  their  course.  A 
sudden  stopping,  then  sweeping  off  to  the  broad  side, 
with  heads  turned  slightly  to  one  side  inspecting  the 
object  of  their  fright.  Now  was  my  time,  with  the 
only  danger  of  being  too  close.  I  was  impartial  in 
shooting,  aiming  at  no  particular  one;  but,  being  a 


134  A  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE. 

little  excited,  fired  haphazardly  right  into  the  thickest 
bunch.  The  sharp  report  of  the  gun  sent  them  bound¬ 
ing  over  the  prairie  at  full  speed,  less  one  buffalo, 
and,  as  it  happened,  perhaps  the  very  largest  one  in 
the  whole  lot.  I  managed  to  get  in  a  second  shot, 
and  was  glad  to  see  that  as  there  was  none  fell,  there  was 
also  none  that  lingered  sickly  to  the  rear,  to  show  fight 
or  give  combat.  I  hastened  quickly  up  to  the  big,  black 
woolly  fellow  that  fell  almost  in  his  tracks  at  the  first 
crack  of  the  rifle,  throwing  out  the  shell  and  placing  the 
last  cartridge  in  the  chamber  as  I  went  along,  to  be 
ready  for  any  emergency  that  might  arise.  The  buffalo 
had  fallen  on  his  left  side  with  its  back  toward  me, 
stretched  out  at  full  length  on  the  side  of  a  little  mound 
of  gravel  and  dirt  that  some  rodent  animals  had  exca¬ 
vated  from  their  several  dens  near  by.  The  buffalo  was 
still  tumbling.  I  laid  my  gun  down  a  few  feet  to  the 
left,  and  as  I  stepped  forward  I  slipped  my  sticking 
knife  from  my  boot  with  right  hand,  intending  to  bleed 
the  animal;  but  I  had  no  sooner  touched  the  trembling 
animal  than  it  commenced  to  strike  viciously  with  “all 
fours” — the  final  struggle,  thought  I.  But  not  so,  for 
had  I  not  been  there  just  at  that  time  Mr.  Buffalo  would 
have  been  complete  master  of  the  situation  without  much 
effort. 

The  liveliest  scene  was  now  being  enacted.  A  series 
of  fearful  struggling,  pawing  and  kicking,  with  an  occa¬ 
sional  throwing  up  of  its  massive  head,  and  then  pinion¬ 
ing  its  thick  horns  into  the  earth,  until  I  was  completely 
played  out.  I  managed  to  get  in  a  little  work  with  the 
knife,  sending  it  three  times  up  to  the  hilt  in  the  region 


THE  STRUGGLE  GOES  ON. 


135 


of  the  jugular  vein.  At  each  stroke  or  thrust  the  animal’s 
nose  was  drawn  back  towards  the  brisket,  which  move¬ 
ment  swelled  out  the  neck  to  a  prodigious  size,  prevent¬ 
ing  to  some  extent  the  deadly  aim  of  the  glistening 
steel.  All  of  a  sudden  the  huge  monster  would  gather 
himself  up,  knock  his  head  around,  and  raising  it  up  look 
back  through  firey  eye-balls  at  his  assailant,  who  was 
only  barely  enabled  to  hold  on  by  means  of  the  long 
hair  about  the  knees  of  the  animal;  and  were  it  not  for 
the  big  hump  on  the  back — a  characteristic  peculiar  to 
the  animal — which  aided  me  very  much  to  retain  my 
position,  it  serving  as  a  sort  of  lever  to  balance  the  mon¬ 
ster,  I  never  could  have  remained  master  of  the  situation 
as  long  as  I  did. 

Another  advantage  that  was  mine  at  the  onset,  was 
that  of  having  the  buffalo  on  the  side  of  the  gravel  knoll. 
Through  this  I  was  fast  losing,  for  each  struggle  left  the 
baffalo  in  a  more  favorable  position,  with  the  legs  work¬ 
ing  around  down  slope.  And  if  it  was  all  I  could  do  to 
manage  him  with  all  these  advantages,  what  should  I  ex¬ 
pect  when  the  hair,  which  was  none  of  the  tightest  (in 
the  spring-time),  was  all  pulled  out  and  the  14-cwt. 
pounder  gaining  strength  all  the  time,  instead  of  losing 
it.  For  it  appeared  that  the  buffalo  had  only  been 
stunned  in  the  first  place,  instead  of  being  mortally 
wounded  as  supposed.  Yes,  a  two  hours’  fight  with  a 
real,  live,  wild  buffalo  on  ‘ 'these  here  plains,”  was  a 
novelty  for  a  ‘  ‘tender-foot”  not  the  most  wished  for — by 
any  means  not — especially  when  there  was  no  fellow- 
mortal  to  witness  so  brave  and  daring  conduct  as  that  of 
“staying  right  with  the  game.”  (Perhaps  more  like  the 


ALMOST  EXHAUSTED. 


136 

country  school-teacher  and  the  wild  cat) — was  obliged  to 
stay  with  it,  not  by  a  real  teeth  grip,  but  the  snap  the 
buffalo  had  got  me  into;  I  dared  not  let  him  up,  for  my 
own  better  health.  Strange  enough  under  such  circum¬ 
stances  that  a  fellow  can  think  of  most  everything  but 
the  right  thing,  until  it  is  too  late.  I  succeeded  in  de¬ 
stroying  the  right  eye  with  one  thrust,  and  immediately 
afterwards,  in  one  of  the  most  vigorous  struggles,  I  lost 
grip  of  my  knife  which,  falling  first  on  the  animal’s  side, 
was,  in  the  over  eager  desire  to  recover  it,  swept  off  on 
the  wrong  side,  leaving  me  without  even  the  help  of  a 
pocket-knife  to  aid  me  in  grappling  with  so  formidable 
an  antagonist. 

It  was  the  easiest  thing  imaginable  now,  after  becom¬ 
ing  thus  powerless,  to  know  how  readily  and  effectually 
I  could  dispatch  this  behemoth  of  the  plains  if  only  my 
knife  was  in  hand.  A  simple  drop  of  the  long  blade — 
with  the  weight  of  the  hand  and  arm — directed  to  the 
region  of  the  heart.  I  felt  that  I  could  not  hold  out 
much  longer  the  way  things  were  going,  having  worried 
too  much  in  the  start.  And  then,  too,  the  intense  rays 
of  the  sun  beating  down  through  such  rare  atmosphere, 
the  more  as  the  contest  waxed  hotter,  drew  heavily  upon 
the  reserved  physical  force — saying  nothing  of  the  ex¬ 
hausting  influence  of  something  like  a  slight  nervous  ex¬ 
citability  (?)  very  correct!  Yes,  indeed,  though  it  be 
but  a  cloven-hoofed  ruminant  and  therefore  strictly  an 
herbiverous  instead  of  a  voracious  carniverous  beast,  blind 
of  the  right  eye,  and  for  aught  I  knew,  with  sand  and  dirt 
in  the  left,  too.  Thought  I,  $50  cash  to  the  individual  who 
would  help  me  out  of  this  awkward  and  very  uncertain 


WILLING  TO  COMPROMISE. 


137 


predicament.  It's  the  awful  suspense  as  to  future  devel¬ 
opments  in  affairs  of  this  kind  that  grinds  down  so  mer¬ 
cilessly  on  a  fellow’s  constitution. 

I  did  not  want  to  capitulate  directly,  though  I  found 
myself  in  a  state  of  free  willingness  to  compromise  on 
terms — say  a  draw  battle,  each  one  to  depart  in  peace. 
Surely,  had  his  kingship  been  possessed  of  one-tenth  of 
the  wisdom  and  out-spoken  sense  of  Balaam’s  beast,  an 
overture  for  the  re-establishment  of  friendly  relationship 
would  have  been  propounded  in  a  minute.  But  no,  as 
dumb  and  stubborn  as  an  ox,  though  seemingly  instinc¬ 
tively  possessed  of  a  clear  perception  of  the  actual 
advantage  gained,  for  his  fury  became  rapidly  intensified 
— so  much  so  indeed  that  it  was  by  the  hardest  work  that 
I  stuck  to  him  at  all — nothing  seemed  practicable  but  to 
fight  it  on  that  line  to  the  last.  Usually,  a  general  re¬ 
laxation  of  muscle  succeeded  each  desperate  struggle. 
In  one  instance,  as  the  out-stretched  form  apparently 
more  dead  than  alive,  with  left  horn  deeply  pinioned  in¬ 
to  the  earth,  evidently  recuperating  to  make  a  yet  more 
vigorous  stroke  for  liberty,  I  thought  I  would  quietly  let 
go  and  slip  around  to  my  gun  with  which,  being  loaded, 
I  could  soon  have  things  all  my  own  way.  Alas!  no 
sooner  had  I  slackened  the  pressure  and  started  quickly 
back  than  gravel  flew  in  every  direction,  propelled  by  the 
monster  scrambling  to  regain  his  footing.  And  don’t 
you  forget  it,  it  took  the  smallest  period  of  time  to  do 
something.  Faithful  lego— once  more  to  the  rescue  for 
dear  life!  One  hundred  and  seventy-five  pounder, 
avoirdupois — hatless  and  coatless,  bounding  through 
space  with  a  velocity  so  great  that  the  resistance  of  the 


1 38'  AFTER  HIM  ONCE  MORE. 

hitherto  calm  atmosphere  was  heightened  to  that  of  the 
raging  hurricane  around  my  ears.  Strictly  ‘ ‘Lot-like,” 
no  time  was  wasted  in  looking  back,  for  never  poor 
mortal  so  poignantly  experienced  at  each  stride,  he  took 
an  imagination  so  akin  to  the  real  fact  as  did  that  man 
killing  buffalo  on  the  plains.  For  the  first  few  jumps 
the  feeling  of  being  actually  gored  could  scarcely  have 
been  more  real.  I  counted  on  being  chased  by  the  in¬ 
furiated  beast,  to  be  sure,  and  of  course  hearing  the  run¬ 
ning  noise  supposed  him  right  on  my  heels,  until  a  glance 
backward  over  my  left  shoulder  to  see  whether  I  was 
gaining  or  not,  apprised  me  of  the  delusion.  Behold! 
the  buffalo,  instead  of  taking  after  his  flying  antagonist, 
had  headed  in  another  direction  and  was  quite  as  far 
from  the  battle-ground,  favoring  the  wounded  eye  by 
slighly  inclining  his  head  to  the  right. 

Zounds!  Who  is  afraid  of  a  buffalo,  wounded  or  not 
wounded?  Where  is  my  rifle?  I  guess  it  is  just  as  well 
that  no  fellow-hunter  had  been  witnessing  this  contest, 
especially  the  closing  scene,  thought  I .  Panting,  puff¬ 
ing,  and  wiping  off  the  streaming  perspiration  from  an 
aching  brow,  a  hasty  return  to  the  arena  was  made. 

The  prowling  wolves  began  to  skulk  thievishly  away 
again,  deprived  of  the  dainty  morsel  so  recently  antici¬ 
pated.  Gathering  up  my  accoutrements  and  makihg  a 
brief  search  in  the  hope  of  finding  at  least  a  few  of  the 
missing  cartridges  lost  while  crawling  up  in  front  of  the 
approaching  herd,  I  shouldered  the  rifle  with  but  the  one 
load  and  started  in  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  buffalo;  which 
was  just  passing  out  of  sight  over  the  edge  of  the  flat 
towards  the  river,  precisely  in  the  direction  from  which 


BECOMING  VERY  CAUTIOUS. 


139 


he  originally  came.  This  strange  movement  satisfied 
me  at  once  that  the  animal  was  not  a  little  bewildered, 
if  not  mortally  wounded.  I  had  not  proceeded  far  when 
my  convictions  were  further  corroborated  by  the  free 
sprinkling  of  arterial  blood.  A  three-quarters'  of  a  mile 
walk  brought  me  upon  the  top  of  the  ridge,  but  no  visi¬ 
ble  signs  of  Mr.  Bison. 

In  looking  back  and  beyond  the  low  flat  I  could  plainly 
see  two  black  objects,  stretched  out  on  the  side  of  a 
small  hill,  evidencing  the  fact  that  my  first  two  buffalo 
had  not  made  good  their  escape,  as  did  this  one — or 
perchance  only  laying  off  to  have  a  fair  chance  at  their 
assailant  when  their  turn  came  around.  I  am  sure  I  did 
not  feel  the  least  anxiety  to  steal  a  march  on  any  more 
buffalo  for  awhile,  unless  they  had  taken  their  last 
breath,  as  any  one  would  have  supposed  had  he  wit¬ 
nessed  the  precautionary  measures  adoped  in  reconoiter- 
ing  and  skirmishing  around  these  two  once  wild  animal’s, 
though  now  dead — yes,  two  hours  ago,  from  all  appear¬ 
ances.  However,  I  concluded  to  make  it  doubly  sure  by 
severing  their  heads  pretty  well  off  before  leaving  them 
to  themselves. 

It  was  between  three  and  four  miles  to  the  Goodwin 
ranch,  and  if  I  hurried  along  we  might  still  have  time  to 
return  on  horseback  for  the  pelts  that  same  evening.  I 
was  pretty  well  up  into  the  bluffs,  out  of  sight  of  the 
ranch,  and  had  to  guess  the  direction.  I  started  out  at 
a  lively  gait  and  as  I  went  began  thinking  over  the  do¬ 
ings  of  the  day,  and  the  more  I  thought  the  more  ex¬ 
cited  I  got,  until  all  of  a  sudden  my  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  moving  of  a  black  object,  partially  con- 


140  HORROR  OF  HORRORS. 

cealed  behind  a  slight  embankment,  less  than  two  hun¬ 
dred  yards  to  the  front.  The  big  hump  on  its  back  was 
an  unmistakable  evidence  of  its  identity.  As  I  had  not 
the  slightest  idea  of  running  across  that  crippled  buffalo 
again,  imagine  my  surprise  when  the  passing  animal 
came  up  in  full  view,  recognizing  it  as  my  former  antag¬ 
onist,  right  here  in  open  rebellion,  for  he  whirled  around, 
pawed  the  dirt  and  shook  his  massive  head,  as  if  to 
charge  on  me  at  once.  I  was  in  no  way  prepared  for 
this  new  phase  in  the  situation,  and  dropped  quickly  on 
the  ground  to  avoid  if  possible  an  attack.  Then  he 
would  rack  off  a  few  yards  and  whirl  with  menacing 
threats  as  before.  I  was  perhaps  full  as  eager  to  widen  the 
space  between  us  as  Mr.  Buffalo  was,  and  at  each  inter¬ 
vening  opportunity  would  shy  off  in  an  opposite  direction, 
recklessly  indifferent  as  to  any  other  source  of  danger.  Of 
course  I  occasionally  took  a  glance  where  I  was  stepping; 
but  this  time  it  was  a  strange  blowing,  rumbling  sound 
that  carried  my  eyes  downward  to  a  point  where  lay  at 
full  length  a  huge,  yellowish  spotted,  glossy  serpent, 
almost  within  the  compass  of  another  step,  ugh!  and  I 
found  myself  high  up  in  the  air,  only  to  come  down  still 
more  dangerously  close  to  the  hissing,  forked-tongued, 
up-headed,  coiling  reptile.  I  did  not  come  down  ex¬ 
actly  straddle  of  him,  but  entirely  too  close  to  remain 
long.  The  instant  my  feet  touched  the  sod  I  bounded 
back  like  a  rubber  ball,  and  dropping  my  gun  into  left 
hand,  took  two  steps  forward  and  just  making  the  third 
for  a  good  sure  line  shot  that  might  without  fail  dispatch 
his  snakeship,  when — horror  of  horrors! — a  yet  more 
prodigious  and  repulsive,  slimy  looking  creature  than  the 


OUT  OF  DANGER. 


141 

first,  sounded  its  warning  right  under  my  nose .  Who 
says  that  man  does  not  act  from  momentary  impulse? 
My  forward  motion  carried  me  skyward  and  far  beyond. 
When  I  came  in  contact  with  mother  earth  again,  I 
never  looked  back  nor  stopped  for  one  moment  to  see 
what  had  become  of  the  scary  things  of  this  mundane 
sphere.  It  seemed  that  every  crooked  twig,  twisted 
weed,  and  even  the  spears  of  grass  took  life  and  began 
to  crawl  about,  and  I  jumped  many  times,  at  various 
objects,  before  the  Goodwin  ranch  was  reached. 

As  soon  as  my  return  was  noticed  by  the  working 
party  below,  one  of  the  men  (Cal.  Goodwin),  set  out 
towards  his  home  purposing  to  make  our  meeting  there 
simultaneous,  he  thinking  that  perhaps  I  had  secured 
some  game,  by  the  frequent  shooting  distinctly  heard  in 
the  bluffs — which,  if  true,  should  be  taken  care  of  ere 
the  wolves  played  havoc  with  it  all. 

When  near  the  ranch  and  in  easy  hearing  distance, 
Cal.  set  afloat  a  few  strains  of  his  peculiar  lingo  of 
double  adjectives  and  twisted  superlatives — to  know  the 
reason  of  the  big  hurry  and  long  steps  that  I  was  measur¬ 
ing  across  the  valley.  It  may  be  that  the  great  excite¬ 
ment,  in  a  great  measure,  unfitted  me  to  be  an  accurate 
judge  as  to  what  was  said  on  either  side.  How-be-it, 
Cal.  still  persists  that  the  conversation  ran  about 
thusly: 

“Cal,  do  you  see  that  buffalo  limping  along  away  over 
yonder?” 

“Yes,  it  came  out  of  the  bluffs  just  opposite  to  where 
we  were  working,  an  hour  ago.” 

“Well,  sir,  Cal,  I  had  the  old  fellow  down,  gouged  his 


142 


THE  STORY  DOUBTED. 


eyes  out  and  cut  his  neck  off,  fought  him  for  two  hours, 
and  then  he  got  away.” 

“Oh,  no!” 

“Yes,  sir,  I  did!  and,  Cal,  if  you’ll  kill  that  buffalo 
for  me,  I’ll  give  you  ten  dollars.  I  just  want  that  hide 
for  a  rehc,  since  I  had  that  fight.” 

The  man,  that  donned  the  buckskin  breeches,  leather- 
fringed  hunting  shirt,  broad-brimmed  white  felt  hat,  and 
Indian-beaded  moccasins,  took  a  glance  in  the  direction 
of  the  bovine  in  question,  simultaneously  exchanging  the 
thoroughly  masticated,  juiceless  plug,  for  a  double  por¬ 
tion  from  afresh  plug  of  Lombard’s  best,  then  stepped 
quickly  to  the  door,  where  were  standing  his  wife,  Eliza, 
and  their,  flaxen-haired  boy,  and  said:  “Lize,  where’s 
Betsy?”  (meaning  his  rifle),  which  was  soon  lifted  from 
its  place  in  the  wooden  hooks  nailed  to  the  cedar  ridge¬ 
pole  of  their  earthly  domicle,  and  instantly  put  in  trim. 
The  question  of  my  having  wounded  the  buffalo  in  a 
hand  to  hand  (?)  encounter  and  in  a  manner  anything 
like  my  language  indicated,  was  not  for  a  moment  toler¬ 
ated  .  It  was  not  the  thing  most  likely  for  a  tender-foot 
to  do,  thought  he,  and  therefore  neither  a  difficult  nor 
hazardous  undertaking  for  a  ten-dollar  note.  But  when 
he  came  out  again,  he  placed  “Betsy”  upon  the  ground, 
and  resting  his  hands  on  the  muzzle,  exclaimed: 

“What  do  you  mean  to  say  you  did  with  that  buffalo?” 

“Precisely  what  I  said  I  did.  That  buffalo  going  yon¬ 
der  I  really  did  have  a  big  tussle  with;  and,  Cal,  if  you 
doubt  it,  right  there  the  turf  and  gravel  is  fearfully  torn  up, 
and  lots  of  blood  scattered  around.  Yes,  sir!  ’tis  a  fact.  I 
fired  into  a  herd  of  about  fifty,  and  as  a  result,  what 


<  ‘HELD  ME  SPELLBOUND. h  1 43 

seemed  to  me  the  largest  one  in  the  bunch,  was  brought 
sprawling  on  the  ground.  I  thought  he  was  killed  out¬ 
right,  and  when  I  got  to  him  I  threw  my  rifle  to  one  side 
and  proceeded  with  my  sticking-knife  to  give  him  a  good, 
thorough  bleeding,  when  the  monster  seemed  just  fairly 
to  waken  up,  and  in  the  struggle  that  followed  I  lost  my 
knife,  and  therefore  unable  to  do  anything.  But  when, 
after  a  prolonged,  desperate  effort  to  liberate  himself, 
and  he  laying  apparently  exhausted  from  over  exercise, 
I  loosing  hold  bn  him  to  recover  my  gun,  he  suddenly 
sprang  upon  his  feet  again  and  lit  out  for  dear  life.  ^ 

The  earnest  manner  of  the  speaker  dispelled  all  doubts 
touching  the  veracity  of  the  statement,  and  then  it  was 
that  J.  C.  Funderburgh  was  made  the  target  for  one  of 
those  scathing  rebukes  for  foolishness  and  simple- 
minded  dumbness,  that  only  a  buffalo  hunter  of  life-long 
duration  is  capable  of  ventilating. 

To  hear  an  old  hand  in  the  business  declaring  that  he 
would  not  even  now  tackle  the  wounded  beast,  on  horse¬ 
back,  for  ten  times  the  offered  sum;  and  not  for  any 
consideration  would  he  have  taken  the  chances  being 
“hors  de  combat”  at  the  instance  the  infuriated  animal 
regained  his  footing,  and  averring  that  my  chance  of 
escape  was  barely  one  out  of  a  hundred,  was  sufficient 
to  make  the  most  staunch  quake  and  grow  pale. 

Feeling  very  tired  I  hailed  with  exquisite  joy  the  quiet 
rest  taken  during  the  evening,  though  I  did  not  sleep 
equally  well,  for  the  mean  buffalo  had  me  spell-bound 
all  night  long. 

I  was  informed  that  the  snakes  I  had  run  across  were 
of  the  species  known  as  the  bull  snake — that  look  more 


*44 


WOLVES  BY  THE  SCORES. 


hideous  than  they  are  dangerous,  excepting  when  they 
are  mad  when  the  bite  is  fatal.  The  greatest  mystery  to 
Cal  was  that  I  had  escaped  from  being  pursued  by  the 
wounded  buffalo;  the  alleged  reason  was  because  of  im¬ 
paired  sight. 

The  next  day  (Sunday)  came  and  went — nothing  done, 
but  securing  the  pelts  of  those  two  buffalo  the  previous 
evening.  A  beautiful  Monday  morning  found  all  hands 
stirring  briskly  about,  perfecting  arrangements  for  an 
early  start  on  the  week’s  hunt  that  had  been  so  much 
anticipated  by  us  all.  The  outfit  was  composed  of  a 
light  wagon,  drawn  by  two  horses,  two  saddle  ponies, 
bedding,  cooking  utensils — among  which  the  inevitable 
‘  ‘Dutch  oven”  was  the  most  conspicuous,  a  sack  of  flour, 
a  little  corn  meal,  salt  and  pepper;  no  meat,  for  we  in¬ 
tended  partially  to  subsist  on  the  aromatic  dainties  of 
the  prairie  wilds. 

By  nine  o’clock  we  marched  out  northwestward  across 
the  valley  and  into  the  bluffs  and  rolling  prairie  beyond. 
The  first  halt  that  was  made  was  where  I  had  shot  the 
two  buffalo  on  Saturday.  The  wolves  had  been  there 
by  the  scores.  The  next  was  where  the  eventful  scene 
took  place  with  the  wounded  buffalo.  Thence  our  course 
was  in  a  south-westward  direction,  aiming  to  reach  the 
Big  Spring,  about  four  miles  distant,  by  nooning  time — 
at  one  p.  m .  we  were  there.  Our  ponies  were  picketed 
out  to  graze.  And  in  a  little  while  our  party  of  four — 
the  Goodwin’s,  D.  W.  Springer  and  myself — were  na¬ 
turally  disposing  of  the  sumptuous  repast  of  tender  Mal¬ 
lard  ducks  fried  and  snowflake  biscuits.  The  intention 
was  to  camp  here  and  hunt  from  this  point  for  at  least 


KILLING  RATTLESNAKES.  I45 

two  days.  A  more  desirable  camping-place  could  not 
be  found  anywhere.  The  strong  flow  of  pure,  ice-cold 
water  from  the  rocky  point  thirty  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  little  valley  over  which  it  spreads  itself,  making 
green  in  early  spring  the  young  grasses  for  the  antelope, 
deer  and  other  animals  that  frequent  the  locality  as  a 
watering  place.  The  pools  are  full  of  fish,  and  plenty 
of  ducks,  and  often  flocks  of  geese,  abound.  The  ad¬ 
jacent  country  is  generally  broken,  except  on  the  south¬ 
west  there  is  quite  a  scope  of  table  land;  no  timber; 
occasionally  a  slight  sprinkling  of  cottonwood  trees  of 
small  growth  are  noticeable  in  the  ravines  and  more 
moist  places,  while  farther  out  and  on  higher  and  drier 
soil  there  is  a  free  and  liberal  supply  of  red  cedar  with 
which,  for  posts,  the  better-to-do  farmers  of  the  Platte 
valley  have  been  enabled  to  make  the  handsome  enclo¬ 
sures  of  those  large  areas  of  farming  dands  now  under 
cultivation .  There  were  numerous  bunches  of  buffalo 
that  dotted  the  prairie  westward,  ranging  at  a  distance 
of  from  two  to  five  miles,  all  working  forward  to  the  place 
of  watering.  But  little  shooting  was  indulged  in,  only 
enough  to  supply  our  commissary  with  some  venison 
and  antelope  steak,  in  order  that  the  good  time  anticipa¬ 
ted  for  the  morrow  might  be  fully  realized. 

A  fair  quantity  of  fuel  (buffalo  chips)  for  cooking  pur¬ 
poses  was  gathered  up;  some  time  was  devoted  to  killing 
rattlesnakes  and  in  digging  up  wild  onions  that  grow 
here  in  countless  myriads — a  very  savory  dish  when 
properly  prepared  for  table  use.  The  natural  cave  in 
the  cliff  with  stone  roof  and  floor,  near  by,  was  of  some 
interest — an  excellent  shelter  in  case  of  a  storm  or  an 


A  SUCCESSFUL  HUNTER. 


I46 

attack  from  the  Indians.  The  cave  showed  signs  of  hav¬ 
ing  been  occupied  in  the  past,  having  a  fire-place,  and 
many  rude  carvings  on  the  walls.  The  evening  was 
passed  sitting  around  the  blazing  fire,  telling  of  wild  ad¬ 
ventures  on  the  plains.  Our  bedding  was  spread  out 
upon  the  grass  in  the  open  air,  and  as  the  fire  died  out 
the  sweet  (?)  voiced  wolves  chimed  in  a  closer  chorus  of 
song  to  waft  us  over  into  the  dreamland  of  morpheus. 

One  good  nap,  and  upon  waking  up  found  myself 
alone.  Cal  had  slipped  out  to  take  a  survey  of  the  game 
in  sight;  he  was  standing  on  a  hill  overlooking  the  range 
a  little  ways  off.  He  came  running  back  for  his  rifle, 
and  telling  me  if  I  wanted  to  see  him  make  a  killing  I 
must  go  up  there  where  he  had  been  standing.  I  did  so 
while  he  buckled  on  his  cartridge  belt  and  struck  up  the 
ravine  towards  the  north.  I  saw  many  buffalo,  as  it 
grew  lighter,  in  every  direction,  and  soon  heard  the 
sharp  report  of  the  rifle  and  then  I  saw  a  buffalo  tumble; 
a  second  and  third  one  followed  suit  before  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Cal.  He  ran  forward  a  few  hundred  feet, 
reloading  as  he  went,  and  dropping  upon  left  knee 
fetched  down  a  fourth  and  in  like  manner  a  fifth  and 
sixth  buffalo,  when  a  shell  got  fast  in  his  gun  just  as  the 
fourth  had  scrambled  upon  its  feet  again  and  came  tear¬ 
ing  back  pellmell  for  a  fight . 

The  occasion,  for  the  time  being,  was  one  of  painful 
interest  to  the  looker-on.  The  crippled  buffalo  was 
alarmingly  close — but  two  or  three  bounds  more  and  the 
worst  would  be  at  hand.  The  extra  exertion  to  avert 
the  extreme  peril  was  happily  enough,  attended  with 
perfect  success;  the  old  shell  once  extracted  a  new 


“THE  POINT  OF  ROCKS 


147 


cartridge  was  quickly  chambered,  the  latter  feat  simul¬ 
taneously  with  the  bringing  forward  of  the  rifle  for  a 
guess  shot,  there  being  no  time  to  take  aim.  A  charg¬ 
ing  buffalo  carries  his  head  and  horns  very  low,  with 
nose  extending  downward;  at  the  sharp  report  of  the 
rifle  the  massive  head  struck  the  turf,  causing  Mr.  buffalo 
to  appear  to  roll  several  times  over  ere  he  stopped  short, 
never  to  go  again.  The  shooting  naturally  awoke  the 
other  members  of  the  party,  who  set  about  preparing 
the  morning  meal,  while  Cal  and  I  gave  a  little  special 
attention  to  a  couple  of  the  fattest  carcasses  for  future 
use.  An  abundant  fry  of  tenderloin,  together  with  a 
slight  sprinkling  of  “prairie  oysters,”  for  those  whose 
tastes  they  suited,  constituted  the  meat  portion  of  our 
breakfast. 

During  the  day  we  were  visited  by  five  or  six  of  the 
settlers  from  the  Platte  valley.  Some  of  them  remained 
over  night,  others,  with  what  meat  they  wanted,  returned 
to  their  homes,  eight  to  twelve  miles  distant. 

Our  object  out,  was  not  so  much  to  make  a  hard  hunt, 
as  that  of  having  a  week’s  recreation,  camping  out,  and 
taking  whatever  of  game  boldly  encroached  upon  our 
camping  grounds.  In  other  words,  only  those  that 
ventured  within  gun-shot  range,  which  means,  I  suppose, 
all  of  one  mile. 

The  third  day,  inclusive,  after  having  staked  out 
seventeen  large  hides  to  dry  till  our  return  homeward, 
we  packed  our  kit  and  struck  out  over  the  rolling  prairie 
toward  the  southwest,  to  a  favorite  camp,  known  to  the 
hunter  as  “the  point  of  rocks.”  There  were  some  buffalo 
seen  at  a  distance,  but  owing  to  the  high  table-land  that 


I48  CAPTURING  BUFFALO  CALVES. 

we  were  traveling  over  rendered  all  attempts  at  their 
capture  futile.  The  lay  of  the  land  for  several  miles 
adjacent  to  the  “pmnt:  of  rocks”  is  very  undulating, 
rocky  and  bluffy,  making  excellent  hunting  grounds.  The 
creek  bed  was  in  a  manner  dry,  the  few  pools  of  water 
yet  remaining  in  the  deeper  wash-outs  furnished  the 
attraction  for  a  few  hundred  buffalo  and  other  game, 
such  as  antelope  and  black-tailed  deer;  of  the  latter  we 
supplied  ourselves  with  two  upon  our  arrival,  which  gave 
us  a  change  of  diet.  We  met  with  good  success  here — 
in  fact  the  liveliest  sport  of  the  week  was  experienced  at 
this  camp,  in  that  of  capturing  buffalo  calves,  from  six 
to  eight  weeks  old.  They  are  very  long  winded,  some¬ 
times  requiring  a  two-hours  race  to  tire  them  out,  using 
two  ponies  in  the  work.  The  old  ones  usually  fight  for 
their  young  when  attacked  by  an  enemy.  However, 
this  is  seldom  true  when  man  is  the  assailant,  unless 
wounded  or  otherwise  badly  crippled,  when  they  seem 
to  fear  nothing.  The  capture  and  the  shipment  of 
young  buffalo  and  elk  in  pairs  for  park  ornaments  has 
been  carried  on  extensively. 

******* 

To  the  traveler  in  the  far  west,  especially  the  prairie- 
schooner  tourist,  there  is  seldom  if  ever  an  aching  void 
for  the  want  of  novelties  in  the  way  of  excitement  that 
banishes  the  tedious  monotony  attendant  upon  other 
trips  otherwise  taken  in  other  lands. 

In  the  last  of  the  many  trips  made  to  Greeley  (county 
seat  of  Weld  county)  from  Julesburg  and  intermediate 
points  along  the  Platte  River,  during  the  three  years  en- 


TREACHEROUS  QUICKSAND.  1 49 

campment  in  the  valley — there  occurred  an  incident  or 
two  worthy  of  mention. 

The  distance  to  Greeley  from  place  of  starting  was  a 
little  over  one  hundred  miles.  I  had  ample  transporta¬ 
tion  in  the  shape  of  a  span  of  matched  roan  ponies  and 
a  good,  stout  mule  on  which  to  strap  the  bedding  and 
other  luggage  necessary  for  a  traveler's  comfort  in  camp¬ 
ing  out.  The  road  on  either  side  of  the  river  was  good 
enough,  though  the  one  on  the  south  side  was  preferred 
in  consequence  of  there  being  a  less  area  of  sand  streaks 
to  cross  on  the  way.  This  necessitated  the  fording  of 
the  Platte,  which  was  accomplished  with  good  success 
considering  the  treacherous  bottom.  Having  only  to 
dismount  once  to  enable  the  ponies  to  liberate  them¬ 
selves  from  the  bed  of  quicksand  that  we  had  dropped 
into.  And  I  am  not  so  sure  but  that  it  was  the  identical  bar 
that  I  had  by  way  of  joke  unsuspectedly  decoyed  the  two 
Ohio  excursionists  into,  when,  attempting  to  cross  at  or 
near  this  point  when  they  were  out  the  year  previous, 
killing  buffalo  and  looking  up  a  suitable  stock  ranch  for 
the  accommation  of  five  or  six  hundred  head  of  young 
cattle  that  one  of  the  party,  Mr.  Ed.  Hamlet,  of  Clarke 
county,  had  in  prospect  to  do.  At  any  rate,  the  old 
camp  fire  mark  was  still  visible  on  the  opposite  shore, 
and  served  to  recall  the  circumstance  afresh,  and  laugh 
it  all  over  again,  for  it  was  indeed  an  amusing  affair, 
not  so  much  so  to  one  hearing  about  it  as  to  one  seeing  it. 
Indeed  a  few  jottings  of  that  trip  may  not  be  amiss  in 
this  article,  so  I  will  give  them  to  the  reader  in  good 
faith. 

This  trip  was  made  from  Julesburg  with  a  wagon,  two 


150  A  MATTER  OF  NO  LITTLE  TERROR. 

very  small  sized  Texas  mules  and  one  saddle  pony.  In 
the  first  day’s  drive  there  was  but  little  of  interest  to 
see.  Antelope,  a  few  wolves  and  some  swifts  and  jack 
rabbits  were  about  all.  Of  course  the  difficulties  and 
peril  in  fording  the  great  Platte  River  were  portrayed  in 
the  strongest  terms  possible.  The  fact  that  wild  animals 
of  the  plains  often  get  mired  in  the  quicksands  and 
perish  there;  others  in  attempting  to  cross,  drop  suddenly 
out  of  sight,  never  to  be  seen  again;  and  in  several 
instances  human  beings  had  met  with  a  similar  fate. 
These  truths,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  we  had  to  make 
the  crossing  further  up  the  stream,  ourselves,  was  all  in 
all  a  matter  of  no  little  terror,  to  some  of  the  party,  at 
least. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  second  day  we  intercepted 
a  small  herd  of  about  forty  buffalo,  making  their  way 
back  to  the  bluffs  from  the  river,  whence  they  had  been 
to  drink.  We  halted  until  the  buffalo  passed  out  of 
sight,  and  then  hastily  slipped  the  harness  from  off  the 
mules,  and  with  guns  in  hand,  mounted  and  galloped 
across  the  trail  in  the  rear,  and  came  around  on  the 
opposite  side  and  in  front  of  the  herd.  This  move  gave 
us  the  advantage  of  the  wind. 

Once  in  front,  we  moved  very  cautiously.  The  only 
way  of  knowing  our  position  to  the  buffalo  was  in  watch¬ 
ing  them  as  they  crossed  the  ridges;  for  we  were  right  in 
among  the  sand  hills  and  bluffs.  Not  being  certain  just 
where  the  animals  would  pass  us,  or  as  to  their  location, 
we  dismounted  and  ran  a  couple  hundred  yards,  obliquely 
forward  to  the  side  of  a  sand  ridge,  and  before  peeping 
over,  made  a  brief  halt  for  a  few  fresh  breaths;  but  the 


ALMOST  TOO  LATE. 


151 

noise  just  over  on  the  other  side,  although  very  slight 
through  the  sand,  was  sufficient  to  indicate  the  fact  that 
no  time  must  be  lost  if  we  would  capture  a  prize  out  of 
that  number.  A  nice  sight,  for  they  had  struck  up  a 
lope.  Almost  too  late.  A  few  shots  from  the  Spencer 
carbines  at  the  rear  ones  of  the  herd.  Brother  Isaac 
was  the  only  one  that  succeeded  in  stopping  his  buffalo 
from  further  flight.  Ed.  thinks,  however,  that  his  buffalo 
carried  away  equally  as  much  lead  as  the  captured  one 
had  received,  but  was  not  lodged  at  the  right  place  quite. 
It  happened  to  be  a  blue  silk  robe,  a  very  rare  specimen, 
which  was  carefully  secured,  together  with  a  couple  hun¬ 
dred  pounds  of  the  best  of  the  meat,  after  which  we 
marched  back  to  our  wagon.  The  buffalo  chase  had 
virtually  blotted  out  all  our  thoughts  of  Platte  river 
horrors. 

As  we  moved  along  up  the  river  I  kept  a  sharp  look¬ 
out  for  a  good  crossing.  A  little  quicksand  was  desired 
in  the  way  to  furnish  the  occasion  for  a  little  fun.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  as  in  a  former  chapter 
stated,  the  Platte  river  varies  from  one-fourth  to  one- 
half  mile  in' width,  and  that  its  bed  is  one  continuous 
sheet  of  sand  over  which  the  water  spreads,  and  owing 
to  the  large  quantity  of  quicksand  mixed  with  the  other 
sand,  the  foundation  is  a  sandy  one  indeed.  The  water 
is  high  only  in  spring  and  summer.  In  the  fall  and 
winter  it  can  be  quite  easily  forded  most  anywhere,  ex¬ 
cept  for  the  streaks  of  these  quicksands  that  lay  with 
the  current,  but  which  can  be,  when  the  water  is  clear, 
as  in  the  fall  and  winter  usually,  readily  detected  by  any 
one  acquainted  with  the  various  appearances  and  move¬ 
ments  of  the  sand. 


152  “THE  MULES  ARE  DROWNING!” 

A  fording  was  proposed,  when  the  boys  thought  they 
spied  an  elk  grazing  on  the  opposite  bank.  I  was  riding 
the  pony.  Ed.  held  the  lines  in  the  wagon,  while  my 
brother  Ike,  on  the  seat  by  his  side,  wielded  the  whip. 
Their  eagerness  to  gobble  up  that  elk  was  just  the  thing  in 
point  to  divert  the  attention  from  the  little  strip  of  quick¬ 
sand  that  I  had  to  ride  fifty  feet  down  the  stream  to  get  on 
the  opposite  side  of,  before  I  could  tell  them  to  drive  in. 
Being  already  out  in  the  channel  a  hundred  feet  or  more, 
I  called  to  them  to  come  ahead  and  to  keep  right  in  my 
trail.  All  of  a  sudden,  down  went  the  little  mules  mid¬ 
side  about  as  deep  as  they  could  get  in  such  a  narrow 
streak,  and  the  worst  is  always  right  in  the  start,  for  the 
adjacent  sands  soon  fill  in,  and  the  more  pawing  and 
stamping  around,  the  solider  becomes  the  foundation. 

Fifty  dollars  for  a  photograph!  The  soundings  of 
alarm  and  distress  coming  from  that  sinking  wagon  was 
in  their  minds  no  false  alarm,  and  don’t  you  forget  it. 
Upon  the  highest  point  on  the  wagon  seat  were  perched 
the  frightened  occupants.  The  air  was  being  loaded  as 
fast  as  it  was  possible  for  any  two  linguists  to  do  it,  with 
such  like  terms  as,  Help!  Here!  Quick!  Come!  Tell 
them  at  home!  Oh!  my — send  watch,  etc.  Of  course, 
as  quick  as  possible  I  came  to  their  rescue,  and  seeing 
that  a  trace  was  loose  and  the  tongue  was  out  of  the 
neckyoke  ring,  some  one  had  to  get  into  the  water,  sure. 
The  boys  were  somewhat  spell-bound,  and  all  that  was 
necessary  was  to  give  the  command,  Jump  out!  (in  a 
forcible  yell)  The  mules  are  drowning!  The  boys  both 
plunged  in,  expecting  to  go  down  several  feet  into  the 
sand,  below  the  ten  or  twelve  inches  of  water.  But  the 


MISTAKEN  FOR  AN  ELK. 


153 


sandy  bottom  had  become  solid,  and  the  water  was  less 
deep  than  at  first,  from  the  filling  in  of  the  sand.  Every¬ 
thing  was  straightened  up,  the  crossing  effected,  and  the 
elk  business  investigated,  which  proved  to  be  Cal.  Good¬ 
win’s  old  roan  pony. 

I  resume  the  story  of  my  last  and  eventful  trip  up  the 
valley.  It  was  not  yet  night  when  the  Nicholson  ranch 
was  reached,  but  not  having  for  a  long  time  visited  the 
family,  which  then  consisted  of  Mrs.  Nicholson  and  her 
daughter  Ida  (married),  together  with  four  or  five 
younger  members — the  oldest  of  whom,  in  company  with 
the  son-in-law,  was  on  the  plains  twenty  miles  distant, 
camping  there  and  killing  buffalo.  I  concluded  to  accept 
the  pressing  invitation  to  remain  with  them  for  the 
night.  The  ponies  and  mule  were  stabled  at  the  corral 
and  well  supplied  with  hay.  After  ample  justice  had 
been  done  to  the  rich  viands  at  the  house,  and  the  even¬ 
ing  hours  whiled  away  by  social  chat,  the  company  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  retire  for  the  night.  The  house  was  a  large, 
one-story  sod  structure,  with  walls  three  feet  thick  at 
the  foundation,  and  tapering  to  two  feet  at  the  top, 
roofed  with  pine  boards  covered  with  four  inches  of  dirt, 
supported  by  a  huge  cedar  ridge  pole.  One  end  of  the 
space  thus  enclosed  was  cut  off  by  a  partition  of  sun- 
dried  brick,  and  subdivided  for  sleeping  apartments. 
Another  addition  on  the  northeast,  a  12x14  room,  was 
occupied  by  the  mother  and  two  daughters.  My  bed  was 
fixed  down  on  the  floor  between  the  window  and  the 
cooking  stove. 

It  must  have  been  near  midnight  when  I  was  first 
awakened  by  the  fearful,  frightful  howling  and  growl- 


154 


A  TERRIFIED  DOG. 


ing  of  the  shepherd  dog,  dashing  around  the  house,  try¬ 
ing  to  get  in,  first  at  one  door  then  at  the  other,  and  at 
the  two  windows.  I  did  not  have  money  enough  to  fear 
robbers,  though  I  did  have  some  fears  for  the  security  of 
the  stock  in  the  corral.  As  the  dog  again  flew  past  the 
window  in  such  piteous  howls,  as  if  clubbed  or  stoned,  I 
rose  up  just  in  time  to  get  a  glimpse  of  a  large,  strange, 
white  woolly  beast  close  on  to  poor  Shep,  who  only 
seemed  to  escape  the  jaws  of  his  pursuer  by  being  able 
to  turn  the  corners  quicker.  In  my  wolf  overcoat  pocket 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed  was  a  loaded  six,  thirty-two  cali¬ 
ber,  English  revolver.  With  this,  before  taking  a  second’s 
thought,  I  was  standing  just  outside  of  the  door,  hid  be¬ 
tween  the  thick  wall  of  the  doorway,  leaning  out  in 
order  to  see  the  monster  circle  around  the  corner.  Some 
slight  delay  was  occasioned.  Shep  had  struck  for  the 
stables  and  hay  corral.  Pretty  soon,  however,  here 
came  the  animal  in  a  slow  trot  right  up  to  within  a  few 
feet  of  me. 

So  close  was  the  savage  animal  that  to  have  extended 
my  arm  at  full  length  would  have  placed  the  revolver  in 
its  mouth.  It  only  required  a  flash  of  powder  to  make 
visible  the  hideous  spectacle  before  me — a  frothy  mouth 
with  ivory-set  tusks  well  displayed,  and  in  the  very  act 
of  springing  forward,  was  a  signal  of  no  slight  peril  for 
the  moment  being. 

Four  consecutive  shots  seemed  to  be  the  least  power 
possible  to  exert  any  influence  over  the  situation.  In 
the  moment  of  excitement  my  left  hand  was  not  idle — - 
if  it  was  vainly  employed  in  a  vigorous  effort  to  find  the 
door  knob  on  the  side  the  hinges  were  attached,  for  I 


ALLAYING  THE  FAMILY’S  FEARS.  1 55 

had  no  disposition  to  stand  my  ground  in  battle  with 
such  a  scary  looking  beast  as  the  one  before  me — 
especially  so  when  no  better  armed  than  with  a  32  cali¬ 
ber  pistol.  Just  as  the  fourth  ball  hit  the  animal  in  the 
throat,  he  receded,  springing  off  side-wise  a  few  yards, 
and  then  commenced  whirling  around  as  if  to  catch  its 
own  tail  with  its  mouth. 

The  remaining  two  chambers  were  quickly  emptied  at 
the  gyrating  monster  as  he  fled  around  the  corner  of  the 
house  out  of  sight.  I  immediately  went  into  the  house, 
remarking  audible  as  the  door  closed,  “I  guess  we’ll  not 
be  bothered  any  more  to-night;”  done  it  in  order  to  allay 
the  fear  that  any  of  the  family  may  have  had  as  to  any 
further  disturbance. 

I  lay  me  down  for  another  nap,  but  my  nerves  were  a 
little  too  sensitive  to  allow  of  that,  hence  the  few  remain¬ 
ing  hours  were  spent  in  meditating  upon  the  fracas  that 
had  occurred,  and  what  kind  of  an  animal  it  really 
was. 

I  got  up  early,  built  a  fire  in  the  stove  and  as  soon  as 
day  dawned,  sufficient  to  see  the  tracks  in  the  slight  skift 
of  snow  that  covered  the  ground,  I  began  the  search  for 
the  carcass  that  I  supposed  could  be  found  within  a  few 
hundred  yards  of  the  ranch.  The  snow  in  front  of  the 
house  was  freely  stained  with  arterial  blood,  that  indi¬ 
cated,  in  all  probability,  a  mortal  wound.  The  track 
led  out  towards  the  river  through  the  weeds  and  tall 
grass  around  the  corral,  coming  again  towards  the  house 
on  the  southwest  side  to  the  road,  which  it  seemed  to 
follow  in  its  course  up  the  river.  The  great  profusion  of 
blood  together  with  the  irregular  steps,  as  indicated  by 


A  MORNING  VISITOR. 


156 

the  foot-prints,  revealed  quite  certainly  the  fact  that  my 
suspicions  were  well  founded. 

The  morning  air  was  very  chilly,  and  not  knowing 
how  far  the  carcass  may  yet  lie,  I  returned,  intending 
after  breakfast  to  take  up  the  trail  again.  In  the  mean¬ 
time  the  discovery  was  made  by  the  family  that  their  two 
big  spotted  hogs  in  the  stable  were  badly  bitten  in  the 
shoulders  and  quarters — supposed  to  have  been  done  by 
this  same  animal,  for  the  stable  door  was  open,  the  dog 
having  doubtlessly  pulled  out  the  pin  while  endeavoring 
to  get  in,  giving  the  wild  animal  admittance  there  some 
time  previous  to  the  shooting. 

While  breakfasting,  the  invitation  “come  in,”  in 
answer  to  the  rapping  on  the  door,  was  responded  to  by 
the  entrance  of  a  neighbor  ranchman  living  a  few  miles 
down  the  river.  In  the  same  breath  with  which  the 
compliments  of  the  “morning”  were  exchanged,  Mr. 
Snyder  continued  in  a  slightly  disturbed  tone  of  voice: 

“Did  there  anything  bother  you  here  last  night  of  the 
wild  animal  kind?” 

“I  should  say  there  did.  I  think  the  intruder  has 
made  a  final  stop  near  here  from  the  number  of  shots  it 
got.” 

“What  do  you  think  it  was?” 

“Do  not  know  for  certain,  but  think  it  is  a  mammoth 
gray  wolf.  ” 

“It  seemed  to  us  down  there  more  like  a  white  bear, 
and  only  for  its  long,  bushy  tail  would  have  thought  so. 
It  visited  our  ranch  early  in  the  evening,  got  among  the 
cattle  and  almost  in  the  sheep  pens.  Could  have  shot 
it  at  one  time  but  were  afraid  of  killing  our  Shepherd 


FOLLOWING  THE  TRAIL. 


157 


dog  worth  $100,00.  I  came  past  Bascom’s  ranch — it 
had  been  there,  too, — killed  a  couple  of  pups  and  carried 
off  one.  At  least  it’s  missing. 

After  breakfast,  Mr.  Snyder  and  myself  followed  the 
trail  about  a  half  mile  further  than  had  been  done  before 
breakfast,  but  for  the  want  of  time  we  had  to  abandon 
the  search. 

Nothing  more  relating  to  the  affair  was  known  until 
some  two  weeks  later,  when  there  appeared  an  account 
of  it  in  one  of  the  Greeley  papers  to  the  effect,  that  a 
two  year  old  heifer  and  a  calf  belonging  to  the  Snyder 
Bros,  had  been  been  bitten  by  the  wolf,  had  to  be  killed, 
in  consequence  of  exhibiting  unmistakable  evidence  of 
being  attacked  with  hydrophobia. 


:o: 


PART  III. 


MY  OWN  CAPTIVITY. 


A  THRILLING  NARRATIVE  OF  INDIAN  CAPTIVITY,  INDIAN 
LIFE,  AND  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE  OF  THE  WRITER. 


I  was  born  in  the  wild  and  picturesque  valley  of  the 
Mohawk,  in  New  York.  While  but  yet  a  little  girl  my 
father  moved  to  the  far  west,  into  Illinois.  My  child¬ 
hood  days  were  spent  amid  the  varied  scenes  that  sur¬ 
rounded  our  house  on  the  wide  prairies.  A  stream  of 
of  water  wended  its  way  along  through  the  grove  of  tim¬ 
ber  that  skirted  its  banks;  as  the  deer  were  free  to  roam 
at  large,  so  were  we,  my  little  brother  and  I,  for  I  was 
the  only  daughter  of  my  fond  parents.  My  early  life 
was  such  that  I  always  loved  to  be  free  and  independent, 
untrammeled  by  the  usages  of  fashionable  society.  I 
was  married  in  the  fall  of  1863.  The  following  spring, 
in  company  with  a  number  of  other  emigrants,  my  hus¬ 
band  and  myself  set  out  to  find  a  home  farther  west. 
The  Indian  tribes  beyond  the  Missouri  had  become  very 
hostile  and  nearly  all  were  on  the  war  path.  Notwith¬ 
standing  these  dangers  which  beset' our  pathway  we 
wended  our  way  onward  toward  the  setting  sun.  It  is 
needless  to  give  a  detailed  account  of  our  tedious  and 
tiresome  march;  day  after  day  the  same  routine  of  life 
fell  to  our  lot,  with  now  and  then  a  variation  in  wav  of 

(158) 


A  LOVELY  SPOT. 


*59 


killing  some  large  game,  such  as  deer,  antelope,  or  buf¬ 
falo,  as  we  traveled  up  the  Platte  valley.  The  hours  of 
noon  and  evening  were  generally  of  a  pleasant  nature; 
our  amusements  were  varied,  sometimes  singing,  some¬ 
times  reading,  and  not  unfrequently  innocent  games 
were  indulged  in  by  the  younger  members  of  the  com¬ 
pany.  Only  those  who  have  crossed  the  plains  in  like 
manner  can  have  a  true  conception  of  the  hearty  relish 
with  which  we  ate  our  meals  around  the  camp  fires,  or 
of  the  refreshing  sleep  we  indulged  in  while  breathing 
the  health-giving  air  of  the  valley  amd  plain.  Occasion¬ 
ally  we  would  see  a  roving  band  of  Indians  in  sight,  and 
not  unfrequently  would  we  hear  of  some  emigrants  being 
massacred  on  ahead  of  us,  or  a  day’s  march  or  so  in  our 
rear.  Being  of  a  considerable  number  we  had  but  little 
fears  from  the  Indians.  Arriving  at  Julesburg,  in  the 
extreme  north-east  corner  of  Colorado,  a  consultation 
was  held,  as  to  whether  we  should  take  the  old  Cali¬ 
fornia  route  up  the  South  Platte  valley,  or  the  north 
route.  Finally  we  agreed  to  take  the  southern  route. 
After  several  days  travel  we  came  in  sight  of  the  lofty 
peaks  of  the  old  Rocky  Mountains.  The  sight  of  these 
seemed  to  inspire  new  life  in  every  heart.  We  went 
into  camp,  feeling  more  cheerful  than  usual.  At  the 
last  station  we  passed,  my  husband  and  some  others  of 
the  company  bought  some  fire-wood  by  the  pound,  as 
there  were  some  of  us  in  the  company  that  could  not 
get  altogether  reconciled  to  the  use  of  the  usual  fuel, 
that  of  “buffalo  chips.”  But  little  timber  was  to  be 
found  along  this  valley.  Our  camp  on  this  memorable 
night  was  by  the  mouth  of  a  small  stream  of  water. 


160  A  TERRIBLE  MASSACRE. 

It  was  a  lovely  spot.  The  plains  were  covered  with  a 
perfect  sea  of  beautiful  flowers  of  almost  every  hue;  the 
children  of  the  party  gathered  them  in  profusion,  and 
plaited  wreaths  with  which  they  crowned  their  innocent 
heads,  little  thinking  they  were  taking  their  last  hours 
of  pleasure  in  this  world.  The  sight  was  a  most  delight¬ 
ful  one,  especially  so  until  the  moon  went  down;  but 
few  Indians  had  been  seen  for  the  last  few  days,  hence 
the  night  watchmen,  who  kept  watch  over  our  stock, 
had  become,  as  we  supposed,  careless,  at  all  events  a 
large  band  of  Indians  took  the  camp  by  complete  sur¬ 
prise  about  an  hour  before  daylight  on  the  morning  of 
the  1 2th  of  July.  Their  first  effort  was  to  stampede  our 
stock  and  kill  the  watchmen,  in  which  they  were  suc¬ 
cessful.  Their  unearthly  war  whoop  sent  terror  to  every 
heart.  Our  men,  recovering  from  their  first  shock, 
hastily  prepared  for  a  defense,  but  alas!  defense  was 
all  in  vain  against  such  great  odds.  We  do  not  wish 
to  shock  the  feelings  of  our  readers  with  an  account  of 
the  terrible  massacre;  our  brave  men  were  cut  down;  so 
were  the  terror  stricken  children  as  well  as  some  of  the 
women.  I  saw  my  own  husband  murdered  before  my 
face,  and  the  last  remembrance  I  have  of  the  fierce 
combat  was  my  falling  upon  the  dying  form  of  my 
husband,  who  had  given  his  life  in  my  defense.  When 
consciousness  returned  I  was  lying  upon  the  grass  near 
the  bank  of  the  little  stream  and  Indian  eyes  peering 
at  me  from  every  side.  I  knew  not  whether  I  was 
awake  or  dreaming,  but  after  a  time  the  dread  reality 
was  forced  upon  my  mind  that  I  had  been  spared  and 
was  now  a  captive  among  the  Indians — the  Sioux — and 
what  my  fate  would  be  was  indeed  uncertain  to  me. 


A  CAPTIVE  AMONG  THE  INDIANS  l6l 

Finding  now  that  I  was  a  captive  among  the  savage 
host  who  had  slain  all  who  were  most  dear  to  me,  my 
experience  was  terrible,  such  as  only  those  in  like  cir¬ 
cumstances  can  have  a  true  conception  of.  A  yearning 
sprang  up  in  my  heart  to  escape  upon  the  first  opportun¬ 
ity  that  offered,  but  to  think  of  an  opportunity  at  that 
time  seemed  visionary,  surrounded  as  I  was  on  every 
side  by  the  wily,  watching  captors;  yet  it  was  that  hope 
that  nerved  me  to  withstand  the  trials  through  which  I 
had  to  pass.  Having  been  reared  by  pious  parents,  I 
had  a  firm  trust  in  God  that  He  would  open  up  a  way 
that  I  might  be  restored  to  civilization.  Many  talk  of  a 
faith  and  confiding  trust  in  God,  but  only  those  whose 
hopes  on  earth  are  well  nigh  ended,  and  who  are  ready 
to  sink  down  in  unutterable  anguish  of  darkness  and 
despair,  can  truly  testify  as  to  the  real  worth  of  that  en¬ 
dearing  trust  in  the  hand  of  Omnipotence. 

After  the  savages  had  gathered  together  all  the  spoils 
they  could  take  with  them,  the  rest,  including  the  wagons, 
were  thrown  into  a  mass  and  set  fire  to.  The  crackling 
flames  that  greeted  my  sight  on  that  morning  seem  to 
yet  retain  a  place  in  my  vision.  Long  ere  the  fires  had 
ceased  their  devouring  work,  the  Indians  hurried  across 
the  river  and  wended  their  way  across  the  high,  rolling 
bluffs  that  at  this  point  came  down  to  the  river  bank. 
A  chief  named  Wauena  had  taken  me  under  his  charge. 
A  heavy  blanket  was  strapped  upon  one  of  his  ponies 
and  I  was  lifted  upon  the  animal’s  back  with  an  Indian 
boy  behind  me.  Being  unsued  to  horseback  riding,  it 
was  not  long  until  I  became  very  tired  and  sick  at  heart, 
but  there  was  no  other  alternative  but  to  follow  on,  ac- 


ON  THE  MOVE. 


162 

companied  by  the  chief,  who  would  spur  my  pony  for¬ 
ward  with  an  almost  continued  lashing  of  the  poor 
animal’s  hips  with  his  rawhide  “Quirt.”  Having  gone 
some  miles  in  a  northerly  direction,  there  was  a  halt  and 
I  noticed  quite  a  commotion  had  taken  place  among  the 
crew  of  dusky  savages  ;  all  seemed  to  be  intent  on  an 
eager  gaze  eastward  down  the  river.  The  morning  was 
clear  and  beautiful  and  the  sun  was  ascending  the 
heavens  in  all  his  grandeur.  After  my  pony  had  also 
come  to  a  halt,  I  looked  in  the  direction  the  Indians 
were  gazing  and  soon  discovered  the  cause  of  their  halt 
and  general  outlook.  Many  miles  off  could  be  seen  a 
line  of  emigrant  wagons  wending  their  way  up  the  river 
bottom,  over  the  same  ground  which  the  day  before  our 
party  had  passed  over  in  joyful  spirits;  but  oh!  how  sad 
the  change!  An  inaudible  prayer  arose  in  my  breast  that 
they  might  not  meet  the  same  fate.  I  felt  glad  that  a 
party  was  so  near  who  would  without  doubt  consign  to 
the  graves  those  of  our  party  who  lay  in  the  embrace 
of  death  by  the  roadside  where  we  had  camped  the  last 
night.  A  consultation  of  war  was  held  by  the  savages, 
violent  speeches  were  made,  a  number  of  young  “bucks” 
(to  use  the  white  man’s  phrase  in  speaking  of  the  young 
Indian,)  had  dismounted  and  were  engaged  in  a  war 
dance,  while  the  chiefs  seemed  in  consultation  as  to 
what  to  do.  Finally,  after  one  of  the  oldest  chiefs  had 
delivered  a  long  harangue  accompanied  with  many  vio¬ 
lent  gestures,  he  rode  on  and  the  rest  fell  in  line  and 
hurried  forward.  The  heat  became  very  oppressive,  and 
my  tongue  almost  clave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  owing 
to  the  intense  thirst  I  suffered.  About  noon  we  passed 


WISHING  FOR  DEATH. 


163 

down  into  a  deep  ravine,  where  issuing  from  the  miry 
clay  water  was  found,  though  in  appearance  somewhat 
repulsive,  yet  to  me  it  was  refreshing.  Along  the  edge 
of  the  swamp  or  bog  a  green  tufty  grass  grew  in  profu¬ 
sion.  The  party  dismounted  and  turned  their  ponies 
loose  to  graze — that  is,  all  but  a  few  scouts  that  were 
kept  out  upon  the  highest  knobs  as  a  picket  force,  in 
order  to  guard  against  any  party  that  might  be  in  pur¬ 
suit.  I  was  so  very  tired,  sick  and  sore,  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  dismount.  Wauena  spread  a 
robe  upon  the  ground  and  bid  me  occupy  it.  I  sank 
upon  it  in  an  exhausted  state,  with  a  feeling  that  I  could 
welcome  death  there  and  then.  It  would  take  a  long 
while  to  tell  of  all  my  wakeful  dreams,  meditations,  and 
forebodings;  suffice  it  to  say,  childhood  memories  with 
all  its  past  joys,  my  foresaken  home  by  the  gentle  river, 
parents  and  youthful  associates,  the  days  of  my  court¬ 
ship  and  happy  marriage,  all  played  part  in  my  whirling, 
dizzybrain.  Then  I  would  live  over  again  as  it  were 
the  horrors  of  the  past  night,  and  wonder  what  my 
future  would  be.  I  was  aroused  from  my  reveries  by 
that  same  unearthly  war-whoop  that  I  had  heard  for  the 
first  time  that  morning  when  the  Indians  had  made  their 
first  raid  on  our  company.  I  discovered  that  a  number 
of  warriors  had  sprang  into  their  saddles,  or  upon  the 
bare  backs  of  their  ponies,  and  had  darted  out  of  the 
ravine  in  utmost  haste.  My  first  thought  was  that  a 
rescuing  party  of  friends  was  at  hand,  and  oh!  how 
quick  my  heart  did  beat.  But  no;  I  was  disappointed, 
as  I  afterwards  learned  the  tumult  was  occasioned  in 
consequence  of  a  number  of  buffalo  near  at  hand  and  an 


164  OVER  THE  TRACKLESS  PLAINS. 

effort  made  to  secure  some  meat,  which  proved  success¬ 
ful.  After  a  rest  of  several  hours,  Wauena  came  with 
the  boy  before  mentioned,  who  I  learned  was  his  son, 
and  bid  me  rise.  With  difficulty  I  complied,  and  prepa- 
tion  was  made  to  resume  our  journey  in  like  manner  as 
it  had  been  in  the  morning. 

On  and  on  we  wended  our  way  over  the  trackless 
plains;  all  around  me  seemed  to  harmonize  in  desolation 
with  my  own  poor  heart.  Not  a  tree  was  to  be  seen. 
A  short  grass  which  was  brown  and  seer  (owing  to  the 
heat  of  the  burning  sun  upon  the  parched  plain)  covered 
the  ground,  with  now  and  then  large  patches  of  the 
cactus  spread  out  across  our  way.  As  the  sun  was 
about  setting  behind  the  far  distant  mountains,  we  sud¬ 
denly  came  in  sight  of  a  grove  of  timber  and  soon  made 
a  descent  into  a  little  valley  where  there  was  a  small 
running  stream  of  water  and  abundance  of  luxuriant 
grass.  The  balm  of  a  ‘ ‘thousand  flowers”  seemed  to 
spend  their  fragrance  on  the  desert  air.  Though  weary 
and  worn  out,  this  spot  seemed  to  arouse  me  from  that 
spirit  of  despair  that  had  settled  upon  me.  The  en¬ 
campment  spot  being  reached,  what  few  tents  were  in 
the  company  were  put  up.  I  was  assigned  a  resting 
place  in  one  of  them  in  company  with  the  chief’s  son  and 
a  few  of  the  laziest  of  the  crew.  It  was  long  after  the 
shades  of  night  had  settled  around  us,  that  the  boy  be¬ 
fore  mentioned,  whose  name  was  Naora,  brought  to  me 
a  piece  of  fresh  buffalo  meat,  for  which  I  had  but  little 
relish,  though  I  had  eaten  nothing  since  the  night  before, 
I  was  soon  left  alone  to  meditate  on  my  surroundings. 


PARALYZED  WITH  FEAR.  165 

There  seemed  to  be  a  great  deal  of  confusion  among 
the  Indians  in  camp,  the  cause  of  which  I  was  entirety 
ignorant,  but  I  had  occasion  to  soon  learn  what  it  all 
meant.  Wauena  entered  the  “tepee”  in  an  abrupt  man¬ 
ner  and  taking  me  roughly  by  the  arm  bid  me  rise,  and 
he  led  me  forth  into  a  large  circle.  The  whole  company 
of  Indians  were  engaged  in  forming  the  circle,  in  the 
center  of  which  was  an  upright  pole  with  arms  or  a  cross, 
on  which  were  suspended  human  scalps.  To  me  the 
scene  was  shocking,  and  I  became  paralyzed  with  fear, 
for  I  realty  thought  I  was  to  die  by  torture.  Very  soon 
the  scalp  dance  commenced  and  I  was  jerked  from  side 
to  side  with  efforts  to  force  me  take  part  in  their  savage 
exhibition.  Unable  to  keep  upon  my  feet  during  the 
continuation  of  the  dance,  I  sank  into  a  half  unconscious 
state  to  the  ground .  Then  the  dancers,  with  gleaming 
torches  held  over  their  heads  and  with  countenances  full 
of  all  the  hideousness  of  demons,  would  perform  their 
terrible  gyrations  around  and  over  me,  thrusting  their 
torches  near  my  face.  Finally  this  terrible  ordeal  came 
to  an  end,,  and  all  became  quiet  and  a  general  counsel 
was  held.  I  was  conscious  enough  to  learn  from  the 
gestures  and  glances  toward  myself,  that  I  was  the  object 
of  their  deliberations,  and  I  afterwards  learned  that  it 
was  then  and  there  decided  that  I  should  be  permitted 
to  live .  There  being  several  chiefs  who  lay  claim  to  me 
by  right  of  capture,  there  was  much  disputing  as  to 
which  of  them  I  should  be  assigned  in  charge  of  for  the 
future.  Wauena  gained  the  coveted  privilege  to  take 
me  in  charge,  and  as  he  came  to  me  he  assisted  me  to 
my  feet,  and  taking  a  feather  from  his  cap  thrust  it  through 


1 66  ASSIGNED  TO  A  CHIEF. 

my  hair  and  led  me  away,  amid  a  confusion  of  shouts 
and  war-whoops  that  seemed  to  make  the  earth  tremble 
under  my  feet.  The  transferring  of  a  feather  from  the 
cap  of  the  capturer  to  the  captive,  is  the  savage  sign  of 
superiority  of  right  over  the  prisoner. 

Once  more  within  the  tent  of  my  captor,  I  sank  upon 
the  blanket  spread  upon  the  ground  and  in  an  almost 
unconscious  state  stretched  my  weary,  tired  limbs  and 
lay  as  one  dead;  in  fact,  I  cared  but  little  for  what  was 
transpiring  around  me.  Sleep  came,  but  instead  of  that 
balm  common  to  happier  souls,  it  brought  only  terrible 
dreams  in  which  a  horrid  picture  presented  itself;  then 
the  scenes  of  that  bloody  conflict  came  before  my  eyes; 
I  seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  my  husband  calling  me. 
How  long  I  slept  I  know  not,  but  when  I  awoke  there 
seemed  to  be  a  calmness  all  around,  and  I  felt  refreshed 
and  my  memory  was  clear.  I  could  realize  my  situation, 
and  every  event  of  the  day  was  clear  to  my  mind.  I 
could  hear  the  deep  breathing  of  those  lying  about  me. 
I  thought  of  escape;  the  voice  I  heard,  as  it  were,  in  my 
dreams  gave  me  courage.  I  knew  that  another  day 
would  only  make  my  chances  for  escape  more  difficult  as 
I  would  be  further  from  the  road  in  which  emigrants 
travel.  My  hope  was  that  if  I  could  effect  an  escape  I 
could  find  my  way  back  to  the  Platte  and  fall  in  with  a 
passing  train.  I  looked  about  me;  all  seemed  favorable; 
cautiously  upon  my  hands  and  feet,  I  made  my  way  out 
of  the  tent.  The  bark  of  a  dog  near  caused  me  to  lie 
down  upon  the  ground  in  the  grass,  for  some  minutes; 
then  I  ventured  to  rise  to  my  feet  and  tread  slowly  my 
way  to  a  clump  of  trees  that  I  could  dimly  discern  at  a 


ESCAPE  AND  RECAPTURED.  1 67 

distance;  arriving  safely  under  the  cover  of  the  friendly 
group,  I  sat  down  upon  a  log  a  few  minutes  to  gather 
my  thoughts  and  to  decide  what  course  to  pursue.  Hav¬ 
ing  some  idea  of  the  course  we  had  come,  I  looked  up¬ 
ward  and  my  eye  met  a  gleaming  star  which  seemed  to 
bid  me  come  on.  Placing  the  clump  of  trees  between 
myself  and  the  camp  I  started  onward  with  all  the  speed 
I  was  capable  of;  on  and  on  I  wandered;  hope  seemed 
to  give  me  renewed  strength.  My  course  led  me  into  a 
ravine  between  some  bluffs;  the  noise  of  coyotes  was 
now  heard  in  my  rear;  a  new  danger  seemed  to  threaten 
me,  but  I  hurried  on.  But  more  rapidly  came  the  pur¬ 
suing  wolves,  until  at  last  I  could  hear  them  close  to  my 
heels.  Unfastening  the  blanket  that  was  around  me  I 
used  it  as  a  defense,  or  rather  to  scare  the  animals  so 
that  they  kept  a  short  distance  from  me,  and  in  this  way 
made  the  best  headway  I  could.  In  due  time  I  noticed 
the  coming  torchlight  in  the  east  and  it  was  in  the  direc¬ 
tion  I  was  going.  I  now  saw  I  was  going  in  the  wrong 
direction,  so  I  turned  to  go  south;  scarcely  had  I  done  so 
when  a  sound  came  upon  my  ears  and  my  heart  sank 
within  me.  The  Indians  had  discovered  my  escape  and 
were  in  search,  guided  by  the  noise  of  the  coyotes.  I 
threw  myself  upon  the  ground  and  in  the  deepest  of 
anguish  bemoaned  my  fate.  It  was  useless  to  try  to 
elude  the  search  of  those  wily  wretches.  I  was  recap¬ 
tured  and  taken  back  to  camp.  Being  assured  the  treat¬ 
ment  I  received  was  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  re¬ 
bellion  or  submission  on  my  part,  I  concluded  the  best 
thing  I  could  do  was  to  offer  no  further  resistance  to  my 
captivity,  but  make  the  best  of  it.  In  this  way  in  due 


LAST  DAY  OF  MARCH. 


1 68 

time  I  was  treated  kindly,  and  endured  my  captivity  bet¬ 
ter  than  if  I  had  continued  to  show  a  disposition  to 
escape. 

Day  after  day  we  traveled  in  a  northerly  direction 
until  we  arrived  at  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Tongue 
River.  Wauena  and  Naora  were  my  constant  companions. 
On  arriving  at  this  camping-ground  on  the  banks  of  a 
stream  of  water,  the  whole  company  seemed  to  be  in 
unusually  good  spirits.  I  learned  that  now  they  were  only 
one  day’s  march  from  their  village  and  homes.  Next 
morning  they  all  dressed  in  as  gay  a  manner  as  possible. 
Except  when  in  full  dress,  the  Indians’  wearing  apparel 
consists  only  of  a  buffalo  robe  or  blanket  held  around 
them  with  their  hands,  or  as  is  sometimes  the  case  a 
buckskin  string  may  be  used.  The  clothing  and  trinkets 
taken  from  our  train  were  now  brought  into  use,  and 
each  warrior  arrayed  himself  in  the  best  style  he  knew, 
according  to  his  taste  and  clothing  at  command.  Their 
peculiar  taste  as  regards  dress  rendered  them  grotesque 
in  appearance.  Some  of  their  horses  were  also  gorge¬ 
ously  arrayed;  the  neck  encircled  with  a  wreath  of  bear 
claws;  bells  and  human  scalps  were  common  in  those 
decorations.  All  being  ready,  the  last  day’s  march  be¬ 
gan.  Having  traveled  for  some  hundreds  of  miles  with 
the  same  monotony  of  life — daily  transpiring,  I  myself 
felt  glad  there  was  to  be  a  change'.  I  had  a  hope  that 
even  among  the  savage  Indians,  to  be  among  my  own 
sex,  life  would  be  more  tolerable,  and  I  hoped  for  rest 
and  repose. 

On  arriving  at  the  village  in  the  after  part  of  the  day 
the  whole  population,  including  a  host  of  dogs,  poured 


flourishing  flags  and  weapons.  169 

forth  to  meet  us,  amid  songs  and  wild  dancing  in  the 
most  enthusiastic  manner,  flourishing  flags  and  weapons 
of  warfare.  The  village  stretched  for  miles  along  the 
banks  of  the  stream,  and  resembled  a  large  military  en¬ 
campment.  We  went  through  the  village  to  the  distance 
of  near  a  mile,  accompanied  all  along  the  line  with  the 
enthusiastic  escort  of  men,  women,  children  and  dogs. 
Arriving  at  the  lodge  of  the  head-chief  of  the  band, 
several  of  his  wives  came  out  to  meet  him,  and  Mexican- 
like,  crossed  their  arms  on  the  chiefs  breast  and  smiled. 
They  all  looked  at  me  in  silent  astonishment  as  I  passed 
on  some  little  farther,  where  Wauena  halted  and  his 
wives  greeted  him  in  like  manner  as  those  had  the  head 
chief.  I  was  directed  to  dismount,  which  I  did,  and  fol¬ 
lowed  my  captor  into  his  tent  or  lodge.  The  interior  of 
this  rude  home  was  ornamented  with  some  singular  de¬ 
signs  daubed  with  colors.  On  one  side  was  a  represen¬ 
tation  of  the  Good  Spirit;  on  the  other,  that  of  the  evil, 
all  according  to  their  imagination  of  these  spirits.  The 
Indians  believe  in  those  two  deities  and  pay  their  homage 
to  them.  To  the  former,  that  he  may  do  them  good  and 
prosper  them  in  the  hunt  and  in  war;  to  the  second, 
that  he  may  teach  them  cunning  arts  and  tricks.  They 
are  taught  from  infancy  that  it  is  their  duty  to  do  his 
bidding,  no  matter  how  wicked  it  is.  This  may  account 
for  some  of  their  ferocities  and  that  brutal  nature  which 
they  so  often  exhibit. 

I  was  shown  a  place  where  I  might  sit  upon  a  buffalo 
robe;  the  chief’s  squaws  seem  to  regard  me  as  an  in¬ 
truder,  and  I  imagined  they  looked  upon  me  with  jealousy 
and  disdain.  They  soon  turned  their  attention  to  the 


170  “  I  WEPT  LIKE  A  CHILD.” 

spoils  their  husband  had  brought.  Article  after  article 
was  opened  to  their  admiring  gaze,  and  a  grunt  of  satis¬ 
faction  and  approval  would  occasionally  escape  them. 
When  it  come  to  the  division  of  the  goods,  there  were 
high  words,  and  finally  the  eldest  of  the  squaws  drew  a 
knife  and  was  for  fight  in  earnest.  The  chief  arose  and 
made  a  speech  and  the  women  became  quiet.  Jor  some 
cause,  Wauena  left  the  lodge.  I  looked  after  him  with 
regret,  for  terrible  as  he  and  his  men  had  been,  I  had 
learned  to  look  upon  him  as  my  only  earthly  protector, 
and  those  women  I  looked  upon  with  dread,  especially 
at  this  time  when  their  blood  was  up.  Numbers  of  In¬ 
dians  came  crowding  around  the  door  to  peer  in  at  me. 
To  shut  out  the  sight  of  those  hideous  visitors  I  buried 
my  face  in  my  hands  and  wept  like  a  child,  but  the 
women  would  not  leave  me  long  thus;  they  jerked  my 
hands  away  and  bid  me  look  up — their  gestures  were 
such  that  I  could  understand  them.  I  was  surprised  to 
see  occasionally  a  face  of  fair  complexion.  I  learned 
afterward  they  were  the  offspring  of  white  men  that  had 
married  Indian  women  at  the  forts.  One  woman  came 
in  accompanied  by  a  fair-skinned  little  girl.  She  could 
speak  a  little  English  and  told  me  she  was  the  wife  of  a 
soldier  at  Fort  Laramie  who  had  bid  her  leave  him  and  go 
to  her  tribe,  which  she  had  done.  The  women  finally 
all  became  reconciled  to  the  division  of  property  and  set 
about  getting  something  to  eat.  They  kindly  gave  me 
food,  and  seemed  to  sympathize  with  me  in  my  condi¬ 
tion.  Presently  the  chief  came  in  and  bid  me  follow 
him.  I  had  forebodings  of  evil,  concluding  another  war 
dance  was  in  order,  and  perchance  I  was  to  be  a  sacri- 


ASSIGNED  MY  SHARE  OF  LABOR.  171 

fice  to  their  frenzy;  but  it  was  that  I  should  attend  the 
feasts  given  in  honor  of  the  returned  warriors. 

And  inasmuch  as  the  expedition  was  looked  upon  as 
one  crowned  with  success,  of  course  the  returned  con¬ 
querors  must  be  treated  to  one  of  the  grandest  feasts  it 
was  in  their  power  to  get  up. 

On  such  occasions,  the  principal  meat  used  is  the 
meat  of  the  dog,  which  among  the  Indian  tribes  is  con¬ 
sidered  a  dainty  dish — one  only  served  upon  unusual 
occasions,  and  by  the  chiefs  or  the  most  prominent 
families.  Of  course  I  could  have  no  appetite  for  their 
proffered  dainties .  After  night-fall  I  was  conducted 
back  to  what  I  now  began  to  consider  my  home.  I  was 
persuaded  by  one  of  the  women  to  take  some  tea  which 
she  said  would  do  me  good.  I  finally  complied  with  her 
request.  It  was  not  long  ere  a  drowsiness  began  to  steal 
over  me,  and  being  shown  a  narrow  bed  of  furs,  I  at 
once  lay  down  and  was  soon  unconscious  to  all  around 
me,  and  that  night  was  the  first  night  of  sweet,  refresh¬ 
ing  sleep  I  had  since  my  capture.  I  arose  in  the 
morning  greatly  refreshed,  and  in  silent  thanksgiving 
remembered  my  God  who  had  remembered  me  thus  far. 

In  company  with  the  boy  Naora,  I  was  sent  out  to 
gather  wood  and  bring  it  in.  The  labor  of  carrying 
water  for  the  lodge  was  assigned  to  me,  with  other 
daily  duties.  I  soon  became  reconciled,  under  the  cir¬ 
cumstances,  to  my  lot,  believing  it  was  better  to  show 
an  obedient  spirit  than  the  reverse. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  in  the  village  there  was  a 
great  council  of  all  the  chiefs,  medicine  men  and  war¬ 
riors.  I  was  led  to  the  large  tent  and  placed  upon  an 


172  A  RELIGIOUS  FEAST. 

elevated  seat  where  all  could  see  me.  In  the  center  of 
the  circle  was  an  upright  pole,  on  which  were  suspended 
many  scalps,  trophies  and  ornaments.  At  the  foot  of 
the  pole  were  large  kettles,  in  which  was  the  prepared 
food  for  the  feast.  A  large  number  of  wooden  bowls 
were  on  the  ground,  out  of  which  the  meat  was  to  be 
served.  A  few  women  were  stationed  in  care  of  the 
provisions  and  pipes.  Many  speeches  were  made  in 
which  frequent  allusions  were  made  to  me,  as  I  under¬ 
stood  by  them  pointing  their  finger  at  me  as  they  spoke. 
I  sat  mute  with  fear,  thinking  in  all  probability  they 
had  in  view  some  horrible  death  for  me  in  order  to 
satisfy  their  insatiate  desire  for  blood.  It  is  impossible 
to  describe  my  feelings  as  I  sat  that  day,  surrounded  by 
those  hideous,  blood-thirsty  savages.  A  handsome  pipe 
with  long  stem  was  produced,  lit  and  handed  to  the 
head-chief;  after  going  through  with  some  maneuvers 
and  muttering  some  words  he  drew  a  few  whiffs  and 
passed  it  around  along  the  entire  circle.  There  was  a 
strict  formality  and  silence  in  all  they  did.  The  meat 
was  served  in  large  bowls  in  which  was  also  a  quantity 
of  soup,  and  a  lage  spoon  made  of  buffalo  horn.  Tome 
was  served  a  portion  of  the  meal.  To  refuse  to  eat 
would  excite  their  displeasure,  and  to  eat  I  could  not, 
hence  the  dilemna  I  was  in  was  painful.  I  thought  it 
probable  the  destiny  or  my  life  hinged  on  my  eating,  and 
I  took  a  few  sups  after  much  urging  and  then  resigned 
my  dish.  The  guests  ate  heartily  and  then  retired 
silently.  I  afterwards  learned  this  was  a  religious  feast, 
and  made  to  the  honor  of  the  Great  Spirit. 

Day  after  day  I  became  more  accustomed  to  the  many 


AN  INDIAN  TRIBE  ON  THE  MOVE.  1 73 

strange  incidents  that  are  common  to  Indian  life;  with 
the  hope  still  buoyant  in  my  breast  that  Providence 
would  open  up  a  way  for  my  escape.  I  bore  my  state 
of  servitude  as  best  I  could.  Seldom  did  I  sleep  upon 
a  pillow  that  was  not  wet  with  my  tears,  and  on  opening 
my  eyes  in  the  morning  my  first  thoughts  were  of  friends 
far  away.  I  would  commence  my  day  in  silent  suppli¬ 
cations  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  in  this  way  I  gained 
much  comfort  and  strength  to  endure  the  most  trying 
treatment.  In  time  it  appeared  to  me  that  many  of  the 
Indians  looked  upon  me  with  something  akin  to  a  super- 
sticious  awe.  After  some  weeks  of  a  sojourn  at  this 
camp,  I  was  apprised  of  the  intentions  of  the  tribe  to 
move  to  a  location  some  miles  below  on  the  Tongue 
River.  The  morning  for  departure  came;  all  was  bustle 
and  confusion;  in  a  remarkably  short  period  of  time 
tent-poles  were  lowered,  tents  rolled  up,  cooking  utensils 
put  together  and  tied  with  raw-hide  thongs  on  to  the  lower 
ends  of  the  poles,  as  they  trail  the  ground  from  the 
horses  sides  to  which  they  are  attached.  In  the  move 
dogs,  too,  are  made  useful  in  like  manner,  by  poles 
attached  to  their  sides  and  small  burdens  placed  on  the 
lower  ends.  The  whole  village  was  in  commotion; 
children  screaming  or  yelling  at  the  dogs,  which  kept 
up  a  continual  barking  or  growling  under  their  heavy 
burdens;  the  women  running  to  and  fro,  as  they  had  the 
work  to  do.  The  children  are  placed  in  sacks,  made  of 
the  skins  of  wild  beasts  and  hung  upon  saddles,  or  upon 
their  mothers’  backs.  Blankets,  robes,  tents,  etc. ,  are 
placed  upon  the  horses’  backs  and  the  women  and 
children  are  seated  thereon.  In  this  way  hundreds  of 


174 


ATTACKING  THE  SOLDIERS. 


families  migrate  from  place  to  place.  The  men  and  boys 
are  usually  mounted  on  good  ponies  and  ride  along  at 
leisure,  leaving  the  women  and  children  to  trudge  along 
with  their  beasts  of  burden  and  camp  equipments  as 
best  they  can.  The  boy  Naora  brought  me  a  horse  with 
saddle  and  motioned  to  me  to  mount  and  follow  the 
moving  caravan  that  was  spreading  out  for  miles  in  dif¬ 
ferent  directions. 

I  was  left  to  my  own  meditations  while  we  traveled  on. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  we  arrived  at  the  site  of  the  new 
camp.  All  again  was  noise  and  confusion.  I  was  forced 
to  assist  in  getting  the  camp  in  order,  and  by  dark  every¬ 
thing  seemed  to  be  about  as  it  was  before  the  move  was 
taken.  I  noticed  that  there  were  not  quite  so  many 
warriors  in  the  village  as  usual  and  learned  they  had  gone 
off  on  a  scout;  that  there  were  a  large  number  of  soldiers 
in  close  proximity  to  the  camp  we  left  in  the  morning 
and  that  an  attack  was  apprehended,  as  there  was  a  war 
between  the  Sioux  and  our  own  government,  I  was  for 
some  time  in  ignorance  as  to  what  division  of  troops  they 
feared  an  attack  from,  but  finally  learned  that  General 
Sully’s  army  was  pressing  upon  the  Indians  in  a  way 
that  to  them  was  alarming.  On  the  arrival  of  the  war¬ 
riors  in  camp  next  day  I  learned  that  they  had  an  en¬ 
gagement  with  the  troops,  and  from  the  feasting  and 
rejoicing,  as  usual,  I  had  every  reason  to  believe  they 
had  not  suffered  much  from  the  enemy.  The  scalp  dance 
was  performed  at  night  by  the  light  of  torches. 

Even  now,  though  years  have  passed,  my  feelings  re¬ 
coil  at  the  remembrance  of  the  hideous  spectacle  of 
human  scalps,  red  with  blood,  dangling  from  a  pole, 


INDIAN  WARRIORS  OUT  ON  A  SCOUT.  (175) 


ALL  WAS  EXCITEMENT.  1^5 

around  which  both  men  and  women  danced  in  demoni¬ 
acal  glee,  and  with  them  I  was  forced  to  take  a  part. 
Since  that  I  have  looked  upon  dancing  as  unworthy  a 
civilized  people.  It  is  astonishing  how,  in  many  things, 
a  people  as  we  are,  claiming  a  high  state  of  civilization, 
will  cling  to  heathen  or  savage  customs,  such  as  the 
wearing  of  trinkets,  deforming  the  body,  engaging  in 
soul-debasing  revelry,  and  many  other  things  that  orig¬ 
inally  came  from  heathenism.  The  terrible  ordeal 
through  which  I  have  passed  has  taught  me  that  no 
woman  who  wishes  to  be  true  to  the  higher  and  holier 
instincts  of  exalted  womanhood  can  consistently  stoop 
to  these  demoralizing  customs  so  rife  in  the  fashions  and 
customs  of  to-day. 

Owing  to  the  close  proximity  of  the  troops  all  was  ex¬ 
citement.  The  Indians  were  jealous  of  the  approach  of 
the  white  man;  they  desired  to  hold  unmolested  posses¬ 
sion  and  sway  of  those  extensive  hunting  grounds,  there¬ 
fore  the  antipathy  of  the  red  man  to  its  invasion  by  an¬ 
other  people  excites  deadly  hostility.  It  is  apparently 
their  last  hope;  if  they  yield  and  give  up  this,  their  idea 
is  that  they  will  either  die  or  yield  to  the  government  of 
the  white  man.  This  hatred  to  an  advancing  foe  is  en¬ 
couraged  on  every  side,  and  instilled  into  the  minds  of 
the  children  at  an  early  age.  Owing  to  this  fact,  is  it 
any  wonder  the  Indian  will  use  every  opportunity  to  kill 
or  steal  from  and  harass  the  whites? 

The  region  of  country,  drained  by  the  Tongue  and 
Big  Horn  rivers,  abounds  in  game;  they,  too,  seem  to 
be  affected  or  disturbed  at  the  approach  of  a  strange 
people  into  their  accustomed  haunts.  Herds  of  elk 


I76  FISH  AND  GAME  IN  PLENTY. 

proudly  stand,  with  erect  antlers,  as  if  charmed  by 
music,  or  as  if  curious  to  understand  why  it  is  that  this 
inroad  is  made  upon  their  long  secluded  parks  or  fields  of 
pleasure.  The  mountain  sheep  look  down  from  the 
craggy  steeps  that  skirt  the  towering  cliffs  of  the  moun¬ 
tains,  and  yield  no  rival  of  their  charms  or  excellence 
for  food.  The  black  and  white  tail  deer  and  antelope 
congregate  in  large  herds;  while  the  rabbit,  the  sage 
hen,  and  the  prairie  chicken  are  nearly  trodden  under 
the  feet  of  the  intruding  stranger  before  they  yield. 
Brants,  geese  and  ducks  swarm  around  the  beautiful 
lakes  and  frequent  the  many  streams.  The  grizzly,  cin¬ 
namon  and  black  bears  are  killed  and  furnish  their  rich 
pelts  to  the  hunter;  and  the  buffalo  in  numberless  herds, 
thousands  to  the  herd,  sweep  back  and  forth,  filling  the 
valleys  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach;  they  furnish  the  In¬ 
dian  his  food,  raiment,  bedding  and  fuel — fuel  in  the 
form  of  ‘‘buffalo  chips.”  Fish  abound  in.  the  streams, 
and  the  country  seems  to  swarm  with  wolves — their 
chorus  of  howls  pierce  the  night  air;  beavers  encumber 
the  streams  with  their  dams,  and  in  places  cut  down 
whole  groves  of  timber.  The  otter,  too,  is  found  in 
plentiful  numbers;  all  of  which  adds  to  the  Indian’s 
comfort  and  happiness;  to  relinguish  their  last  hunting- 
grounds  to  another  race  is  to  them  like  giving  up  all  that 
is  most  dear  to  them.  But  alas!  their  resistance,  though 
barbarous  and  determined,  is  in  vain;  all  attempt  to 
keep  back  their  enemy  is  futile;  they  must  at  last  yield 
to  the  coming,  rolling  flood  of  emigration.  The  destiny 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  is  onward,  to  conpuer  and  qos- 
sess,  regardless  of  the  primeval  right  of  another  people. 


A  HASTY  RETREAT. 


177 


Only  a  few  days  were  we  permitted  to  rest  at  this  last 
mentioned  encampment;  another  move  was  ordered,  and 
just  before  we  left,  one  beautiful  clear  morning,  an  In¬ 
dian  boy  who  had  died  the  night  previous  was  hastily 
buried.  The  body  was  wrapped  in  some  old  window 
curtains,  relics  of  the  spoils  taken  from  our  company  at 
the  time  of  the  massacre;  a  blanket  and  many  trinkets, 
such  as  belonged  to  the  boy  or  love  bestowed,  were  ad¬ 
ded  to  the  mouldering  remains  and  all  consigned  to  its 
last  resting  place,  which  was  left  amid  loud  lamentations 
from  the  mother  and  relatives.  Great  anxiety  was  mani¬ 
fested  in  the  movements  of  the  Indians;  as  we  hurried 
along  we  could  at  times  hear  the  sound  of  battle  afar  off. 
The  echoes  of  the  booming  guns  to  my  captors  sent  a 
thrill  of  fear  and  dread,  but  to  me  it  was  different.  The 
thought  that  a  detachment  of  troops — people  of  my  own 
race — were  near,  stirred  up  within  me  conflicting  emo¬ 
tions;  it  was  difficult  to  restrain  them;  the  Indians  who 
kept  their  eyes  upon  me  were  more  cross  and  unkind 
than  usual.  As  the  newly-captured  wild  animal  pants 
for  liberty,  so  my  poor  heart  fluttered  and  longed  for  de¬ 
liverance;  yet  I  dreaded  its  accomplishment,  fearing  that 
my  life  would  be  taken  rather  than  I  should  be  given  up. 
I  was  hurried  along  in  front  of  the  moving  column  of 
terrified  women  and  crying  children.  We  were  almost 
famishing  for  water,  having  taken  a  course  that  lay 
across  the  dry,  barren  plain.  About  nightfall  we  reached 
the  high  banks  of  a  beautiful  stream  of  water;  after 
some  search  a  narrow  passage  way  between  the  cliffs  was 
found,  down  through  which  we  passed  to  the  narrow  strip 
of  land  that  skirted  the  banks  of  the  stream.  Here  we 


THE  BATTLE  RAGES. 


178 

camped,  and  never  were  poor  mortals  more  eager  for 
rest,  food  and  water. 

A  few  of  the  Indians  were  detailed  to  keep  watch  over 
the  horses,  as  they  wandered  up  and  down  the  stream, 
nipping  the  tender  grass  that  here  and  there  grew  in 
small  tufts.  At  an  early  hour  all  lay  down  under  the 
willows  close  to  the  stream  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
tired  and  weary.  I  arose  in  the  morning  just  as  the 
sunshine  was  beginning  to  paint  the  cliffs  on  the  oppo¬ 
site  side  of  the  river  with  its  crimson  glow.  I  felt  much 
refreshed;  soon  the  toils  of  the  day  began  and  after 
going  some  distance  down  the  river,  a  place  was  found 
where  the  river  was  more  smooth;  into  the  river  they  all 
plunged,  leading  my  horse.  I  was  very  much  frightened 
but  my  steed  swam  safely  to  shore.  Up  a  deep  moun¬ 
tain  gorge  we  all  hastened;  the  Indians  seemed  to  be¬ 
come  more  and  more  excited;  we  could  hear  the  roar  of 
firearms  in  our  rear.  I  was  certain  the  soldiers  were  in 
pursuit  and  the  Indian  warriors  were  contesting  every 
inch  of  the  ground  with  them.  Of  course  the  move¬ 
ments  ef  the  troops  were  slow  owing  to  the  roughness 
of  the  country  and  the  fact  that  the  Indians  harassed 
them  from  every  available  point.  During  the  day  sev¬ 
eral  wounded  warriors  were  brought  to  us  to  be  taken 
care  of.  I  done  all  I  could  to  help  them  that  I  might 
find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  tribe,  and  thus  gain  a 
greater  chance  for  my  life  in  case  of  a  hand  to  hand 
fight  with  the  soldiers.  I  felt  sure  friends  were  not  far 
off,  and  my  heart  at  times  bounded  with  joy,  at  other 
times  I  felt  cast  down,  fearing  that  the  overtaking  of  us 
by  the  soldiers  would  only  hasten  my  death  at  the  hands 


rv  „ 

/ft'jrr  H " ■•■'"" "' 

y  •••  #"  ^  . 

SOLDIERS  ON  THE  MARCH.  (178) 


PURSUING  THE  ENEMY. 


179 


of  my  cruel  captors.  Sometimes  one  or  more  of  the 
fighting  ‘  ‘braves”  would  overtake  us,  bearing  trophies  of 
the  fight,  such  as  reeking  scalps  and  soldier’s  outfits,  all 
covered  with  blood,  which  told  a  sad  tale  to  my  grief- 
stricken  heart.. 

Thus  it  was  at  the  time  of  those  running  fights — hope 
deferred  made  the  heart  sick.  Near  at  hand  was  the 
flag  of  liberty  and  a  host  who  were  pressing  on  to  give 
me  freedom  from  a  life  of  terrible  slavery.  So  near  and 
I  yet  helpless  and  resting  under  the  fear  of  a  violent 
death.  Oh,  the  bitter  experience  of  those  days  of  hope 
and  fear.  On  went  our  fleeing  gang  until  we  reached 
the  Bad  Lands,  a  section  of  country  so  barren  and  deso¬ 
late  as  to  offer  the  idea  that  it  is  indeed  a  God-forsaken 
land — a  curse  seems  to  hang  over  it.  Vegetation  has 
been  crushed  out  as  though  some  volcanic  or  burning 
wave  had  passed  over  it. 

Petrified  toads,  snakes,  birds  and  insects  abound  every¬ 
where — what  a  field  for  the  scientist  to  roam  over  and 
read  the  pages  of  a  wonderful  history. 

The  scarcity  of  water  and  grass  urged  us  on  to  find  a 
more  fertile  region.  The  Indians  were  forced  to  throw 
away  everything  that  retarded  their  progress.  They 
seemed  to  only  care  for  their  own  safety.  The  impetuous 
pursuit  of  the  soldiers  drove  the  Indians  so  far  northward 
that  they  were  forced  to  swim  the  Yellow  Stone  river 
and  seek  shelter  in  the  rugged  recesses  of  apparent  safety 
beyond. 

There  is  nothing  so  wearing  on  a  body  of  troops  as 
this  mode  of  warfare — pursuing  the  hostiles  into  their 
own  well  known  haunts.  The  Indians  have  every  ad- 


l80  TALK  OF  VENGEANCE. 

vantage;  horses  used  to  the  rugged  paths  and  forcing  the 
soldiers  to  accept  of  their  own  mode  of  warfare.  We 
did  not  wonder  that  the  weary  soldiers  gave  up  the  pur¬ 
suit  and  returned  to  headquarters — having  left  dear 
comrades  far  away  to  lie  in  lonely  graves  on  the  plains 
or  in  the  rugged  ravines. 

Now  that  the  soldiers  had  given  up  the  pursuit  the  In¬ 
dians  felt  safe,  and  began  to  make  preparations  to 
concentrate  their  scattered  forces  and  return  southward 
to  the  land  they  called  their  home.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  the  instincts  or  savage  cruelty  of  the  Indians  were 
intensified  a  thousand  fold;  they  fairly  raged  at  the  thought 
of  the  losses,  not  only  of  brave  warriors  but  their  tents 
and  property  of  every  kind  was  destroyed  by  the  soldiers 
as  fast  as  it  fell  into  their  hands.  The  women  who  had 
lost  relatives  raved  and  tore  their  hair  in  a  wild  and 
frantic  manner.  They  even  tortured  their  bodies  in 
every  conceivable  manner  and  ran  screeching  and  yelling 
through  the  camp  like  mad  men.  For  weeks  it  seemed 
the  whole  tribe  was  on  the  verge  of  starvation,  so  ter¬ 
ribly  enraged  were  the  Indians,  that  they  sought  ven¬ 
geance  from  any  quarter.  As  must  be  supposed  I  was 
a  target  for  their  unrestrained  fury.  It  was  only  through 
the  grace  of  God  that  I  was  enabled  to  bear  it  all.  One 
morning  I  was  apprised  of  the  determination  of  the  tribe 
to  make  me  a  victim  to  appease  in  a  measure  their  boil¬ 
ing  wrath.  An  Indian  come  to  me  to  know  if  I  was 
ready  to  die — to  be  burned  at  the  stake.  I  told  him 
whenever  Wakon-Tonka  (the  Great  Spirit)  called  me  to 
come  to  him  I  would  go.  He  said  it  was  decided  that 
nothing  else  but  my  life  would  appease  the  vengeance  of 


THE  FINGER  OF  GOD  WAS  IN  IT.  1 8 1 

the  Indians,  because  they  had  lost  so  much  at  the  hands 
of  the  soldiers.  He  said  they  had  no  hatred  toward  me 
but  I  must  die  because  they  hated  the  soldiers  that  killed 
their  braves  and  destroyed  their  goods  and  left  them 
beggars.  A  council  was  called,  the  pipe  brought  out, 
the  leading  chief  took  it,  offered  up  an  incantation  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  bowed  once  to  each  point  of  the  compass, 
as  we  would  say,  and  then  handed  the  pipe  to  each  chief 
that  he  may  smoke.  Many  words  were  then  spoken, 
their  wrongs  at  the  hands  of  the  whites  was  dwelt  upon; 
vengeance  they  must  have  and  as  no  other  whites  are  in 
our  power  now,  we  must  take  the  pale  faced  woman  for 
an  object  on  whom  to  pour  out  our  wrath  and  please 
the  Great  Spirit.  Finally  an  old  chief,  one  much  res¬ 
pected,  arose  and  commanded  silence,  and  said  he,  ‘It  is 
true  vengeance  is  allowable,  but  is  it  brave  to  take  for 
vengeance  the  life  of  one  who  is  innocent  of  our  wrongs? 
She  has  been  kind  to  us,  smiled  upon  us,  sang  for  us, 
nursed  our  wounded  braves.  Our  children  love  her  as  a 
tender  sister.  Why  shall  we  put  her  to  death  for  the 
wrongs  of  others,  let  us  not  punish  the  innocent  for  the 
guilty.  I  was  not  in  the  council  room  but  where  I  could 
hear  the  speeches.  If  ever  there  was  a  poor  woman 
prayed  earnestly  for  protection  it  was  at  this  time,  and 
when  I  found  they  had  decided  to  spare  my  life  my 
heart  was  too  full  for  utterance.  And  from  that  day  to 
this  I  remember  this  last  speech,  I  felt  the  finger  of  God 
was  in  it,  I  have  not  forgotten  to  pray  the  Lord  to  bless 
that  chief  while  he  lives. 

For  want  of  food  a  terrible  experience  was  the  lot  of 
all,  dogs  and  horses  died  of  starvation  and  their  carcasses 


182 


ALMOST  FAMISHING. 


were  eaten  by  the  almost  famishing  Indians.  For  days 
I  had  little  to  eat,  sometimes  I  would  chew  leaves, 
flowers  and  grass,  that  I  might  get  a  little  nourishment. 
In  time  we  arrived  in  a  fertile  valley  and  the  Indians 
made  their  home  upon  the  banks  of  a  large  beautiful 
stream.  Game  and  fish  abounded  so  that  we  no  longer 
lacked  for  food.  The  Indians  would  make  raids  and  re¬ 
turn  with  horses  and  booty  of  all  kinds,  whether  taken 
from  neighboring  tribes,  returning  miners  or  emigrants, 
I  could  not  say.  In  the  course  of  some  months  they  be¬ 
gan  to  live  again  as  they  had  before  their  last  sad 
experience  with  the  soldiers.  The  longer  I  was  held  in 
captivity  the  stronger  grew  my  anxiety  to  escape  from 
bondage.  It  was  the  one  thought  ever  uppermost  in 
my  mind.  At  last  the  long  hoped  for  time  came. 

One  day  while  seated  on  the  outside  of  the  chiefs 
tent,  thinking  of  my  past  life  and  bemoaning  my  lot,  I 
instinctively  cast  my  tear-dimmed  eyes  upward,  and 
breathed  a  prayer  to  God  to  save  me — to  open  up  some 
way  that  I  might  escape  this  miserable  life  of  captivity. 
How  long  I  sat  thus  I  know  not.  I  was  aroused  from 
my  meditations  by  an  unusual  stir  among  the  Indians, 
and  there  came  riding  up  to  the  tent  a  strange  Indian. 
Quite  a  crowd  of  those  of  the  village  followed  near  by, 
making  quite  a  confusion  by  their  loud  talk  and  gestures. 
He  halted  by  our  tent  and  inquired  for  the  chief,  who 
came  out,  and  I  heard  him  make  inquiry  for  a  white 
women  that  was  held  a  prisoner.  He  said  he  had  come 
on  a  peaceful  mission,  had  valuable  presents  to  give  for 
my  ransom  (I  soon  learned  I  was  the  prisoner  he  spoke 
of)  and  that  many  more  would  be  given  at  the  fort  by 


A  FRIEND  ARRIVES. 


183 

the  white  chief  if  I  was  brought  to  them.  As  he  spoke 
the  chief  looked  to  me,  and  the  stranger  knew  I  was  the 
object  of  his  mission.  He  then  handed  me  a  letter, 
which  I  eagerly  clutched  and  read;  found  it  was  from 
the  commander  of  the  Post,  and  that  all  efforts  to  get 
me  out  of  the  hands  of  my  captors  had  proven  futile. 
He  now  had  a  hope  that  the  Indian  who  would  carry 
the  letter  would  succeed.  The  Indian  had  left  his  wives 
as  hostages,  vowing  that  he  would  bring  me  to  the  fort 
in  safety  or  they  might  make  slaves  of  his  wives.  It 
was  a  joy  to  me  to  thus  have  a  show  for  my  return  to 
civilization  and  my  friends.  But  my  joy  was  of  short 
duration.  I  soon  found  out  the  chief  with  all  his  tribe 
opposed  my  going  on  any  terms.  Bitter  words  passed 
between  the  messenger  and  chief,  but  after  a  time  they 
seemed  to  be  on  friendly  terms,  and  in  the  evening  the 
Indian  who  had  come  for  me,  his  name  was  Waunena, 
got  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  me  and  told  me  they 
refused  to  let  me  go,  but  said  he,  “keep  a  big  heart,” 
what  I  can’t  do  by  free  consent  I  will  try  and  do  by 
strategy;  this  was  his  meaning,  and  said  he,  I  must  not 
talk  much  with  you  or  he  would  excite  their  suspicions. 
For  some  days  he  remained,  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace 
with  them,  hunted  with  them,  and  was  a  jolly  guest 
among  them.  I  learned  he  was  a  chief  of  another  tribe, 
and  he  was  an  avaricious,  cunning  savage,  and  as  I 
learned  afterwards  his  reasons  for  running  the  risk  of 
his  life  for  me,  and  insuring  the  hatred  of  this  tribe 
against  him  was  not  from  any  love  for  my  welfare,  only 
that  my  safe  deliverance  to  the  fort  would  result  in  his 
getting  the  whole  of  the  ransom  promised  the  tribe  if 


1 84  ESCAPING  FROM  THE  INDIANS. 

they  would  give  me  up.  One  day  as  I  went  to  the  spring 
amid  a  clump  of  underbrush  I  met  Waunena,  and  he 
said:  ‘‘Come  to  the  spring  at  dark,”  and  then  disap¬ 
peared.  Knowing  so  much  of  the  treachery  of  the  In¬ 
dian,  it  was  some  time  before  I  could  get  the  consent  of 
my  mind  to  obey  him.  The  letter  was  the  only  proof 
that  he  had  really  come  as  he  said  for  me,  therefore  I 
concluded  to  trust  him,  as  I  could  not  see  how  I  could 
worse  my  condition  much,  and  if  he  proved  treacherous 
it  would  be  as  well  to  die  as  to  live  longer  in  this 
miserable  way.  As  was  my  custom  at  nightfall,  I  took 
up  a  bucket  and  walked  off  leisurely  toward  the  spring. 
Looking  around  I  could  see  nothing  of  Waunena.  Just 
as  I  was  dipping  up  the  bucket  of  water  I  heard  a  low 
whistle.  Peering  through  the  dusky  shadows  I  faintly 
discerned  a  hand  beckoning  me  to  come  that  way. 
Leaving  my  bucket  I  obeyed,  and  found  it  was  Waunena 
waiting  for  me. 

In  hurried,  low  tones  he  bade  me  return  to  the  chiefs 
tent,  and  said  he,  “go  to  bed  as  usual,  and  at  the  sound 
of  the  whippoorwill  get  up  quietly  and  meet  me  at  the 
spring.  Be  sure  you  make  no  noise.  Walk  as  softly 
as  a  good  spirit.”  That  was  to  me  a  long  waiting  as 
I  lay  upon  my  couch  with  a  prayer  almost  continually 
running  through  my  mind.  At  last  the  voice  of  the 
whippoorwill  sounded  its  clear  notes.  The  inmates  of 
the  tent  were  all  in  deep  slumber.  I  got  up  noise¬ 
lessly  and  crept  quietly  to  the  door  and  went  out. 

The  stillness  of  the  night  made  me  feel  nervous  and 
afraid,  but  I  passed  down  the  beaten  path  that  led  to 
the  spring.  There  I  met  he  whom  I  looked  upon  as 


FOR  LIFE  AND  FREEDOM.  1 85 

an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God  for  my  deliverance. 
Of  course  it  was  he  that  sounded  the  notes  in  imitation 
of  the  night  bird.  He  whispered  to  me  to  follow  him, 
and  off  he  mo’ved  as  quietly  as  a  cat.  After  going 
some  distance  he  came  to  where  two  ponies  were  tied 
to  a  tree.  Assisting  me  onto  one,  he  sprang  upon  the 
other  and  off  we  started,  my  pony  following  his  down 
a  deep  ravine,  and  before  the  dawn  of  day  we  had 
emerged  out  on  to  the  wide  plain. 

My  companion  seldom  spoke,  but  hurried  along, 
often  going  in  a  gallop.  Upon  the  pony  I  rode  there 
were  a  number  of  blankets  and  a  buffalo  robe  securely 
fastened.  On  these  I  sat  and  had  a  comfortable  seat. 
No  halt  was  made  until  about  night,  when  we  came  to 
a  small  stream  of  water  running  along  between  some 
bluffs.  The  long  continued  journey  had  made  me  very 
tired.  I  had  taken  some  dried  buffalo  meat  with  me, 
eating  a  little  occasionally  gave  me  strength  so  that  I 
was  not  hungry.  Waunena  ate  of  the  provisions  he 
had  with  an  appetite  akin  to  a  wolf.  He  talked  to 
me  as  I  lay  upon  my  bed  of  blankets  and  robe. 

I  think  I  had  slept  an  hour  or  so  when  I  was  awakened 
and  Waunena  said  we  must  go.  He  seemed  to  be  con¬ 
scious  of  the  fact  that  we  would  be  pursued,  and  com¬ 
municating  his  fears  to  me,  I  was  as  eager  as  he  to  press 
onward.  It  was  indeed  a  tedious,  tired  journey,  but  it 
being  a  ride  for  life  and  freedom,  I  summoned  all  the 
Courage  I  had  and  never  complained . 

Only  for  an  honr  or  two  would  we  stop  at  a  time  each 
evening  to  let  our  ponies  graze  and  I  take  a  rest  and 
sleep.  I  don’t  think  Waunena  ever  closed  his  eyes — it 


1 86  “THEY  ARE  COMING  !  ” 

was  a  matter  of  life  and  fortune  for  him.  Whenever  he 
would  arrive  upon  any  high  eminence  he  would  stop, 
and  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  take  a  look  all 
around,  and  then  go  forward  again . 

Upon  the  fourth  evening  of  our  journey,  just  before 
sunset,  we  ascended  a  high  divide,  and  I  noticed  Wau- 
nena  looked,  in  his  hurried  way,  around  the  horizon  in 
the  direction  we  had  come,  longer  than  usual,  and  then 
said  he:  “They  are  coming.”  That  short  message  sent 
a  thrill  of  dread  through  my  soul.  “Yes,”  said  he,  “we 
must  not  tarry  to-night.”  He  looked  to  his  rifle  that  all 
was  in  order,  and  set  forward  with  renewed  speed.  Our 
ponies  were  getting  very  tired,  but  they  were  still  able  to 
travel  very  well.  We  pushed  on  all  night.  I  noticed 
the  first  night  we  were  out  that  Waunena  traveled  in  a 
certain  direction,  taking  a  star  for  his  guide.  In  the 
morning,  just  before  sun  up,  Waunena  pointed  out  to¬ 
ward  the  south,  and  said  he  saw  the  smoke  of  the  white 
man’s  fort .  I  could  dimly  discern  a  hazy  cloud  which 
seemed  to  hang  near  the  ground.  The  thought  that  we 
were  so  near  our  journey’s  end  revived  me  very  much. 
On  we  urged  our  tired  steeds.  Waunena  seemed  very 
restless  and  watchful,  looking  back  often.  We  passed 
down  a  ravine  for  some  distance,  and  then  ascended 
another  high  divide  that  seemed  to  let  down  toward  the 
fort,  which  was  yet  some  miles  off.  In  looking  across 
toward  the  west  where  there  was  a  skirt  of  timber,  we 
were  surprised  to  see  a  dozen  or  more  Indians  dash  out 
at  full  speed  and  turn  their  course  toward  us.  We  urged 
our  ponies  onward  with  all  possible  speed.  Our  pursu¬ 
er’s  ponies  were  also  ridden  down  no  doubt,  as  they  did 


A  LIVELY  SCRIMMAGE.  1 8 7 

not  seem  to  gain  on  us,  at  least  while  coming  up  the  hill. 
We  had  a  level  plain  to  ride  over.  I  could  not  help  but 
look  back,  and  I  noticed  one  of  the  party  was  far  in 
front  and  gaining  on  us.  Whiz!  went  a  ball  to  my  right, 
and  then  another,  and  a  few  moments  later  my  pony 
made  a  terrible  lunge  forward  and  fell,  throwing  me 
some  distance,  but  as  luck  would  have  it  I  was  hurt  but 
little.  I  saw  the  blood  gush  from  my  pony’s  nostrils, 
and  I  knew  he  was  shot  through  the  lungs.  I  arose  to 
my  feet  and  saw  the  nearing  Indian  throw  himself  on  to 
the  side  of  his  pony  as  Waunena  raised  his  rifle.  At  the 
report  of  the  rifle  near  my  side  I  saw  our  pursuer  and 
his  pony  fall  in  a  heap,  and  in  the  same  instant  Wau¬ 
nena  threw  me  upon  his  pony,  and  springing  in  front, 
bade  me  hold  on,  and  he  was  off,  making  as  good  speed 
as  possible.  The  temporary  delay  gave  the  rest  of  our 
pursuers  a  chance  to  get  within  gun-shot.  On  they 
came,  whooping  like  so  many  demons,  now  sure  of  their 
game.  As  chance  would  have  it,  a  sentinel  at  the  fort 
had  discovered  us,  and  with  a  glass  had  seen  my  pony 
shot  from  under  me.  The  alarm  was  raised,  and  a  dozen 
men  started  out  to  our  relief.  Shot  after  shot  whized 
around  us.  Waunena  dared  not  loose  a  moment  to  re¬ 
turn  the  fire,  but  pressed  on.  But  alas!  our  almost  fam¬ 
ished  pony  fell,  pierced  by  a  ball.  Waunena  lit  upon 
his  feet,  and  as  I  lay  upon  the  ground  I  saw  him  level 
his  gun  and  fire  six  shots  in  succession.  Three  of  the 
pursuing  Indians  bit  the  dust,  and  then  there  was  one 
teriffic  yell  from  the  rest,  and  the  next  moment  a  sound 
of  clashing  war  equipments  as  the  soldiers  from  the  fort 
came  on  their  fresh  horses  like  a  rush  of  wind.  I  saw 


1 88 


SAFE  AT  LAST. 


our  pursuing  party  wheel  and  flee,  and  as  the  soldiers 
flew  by  us  a  dark  film  came  over  my  eyes,  and  I  knew 
nothing  more  until  I  woke  up  and  found  a  kind  lady 
bending  over  me  with  anxious  looks.  To  the  question, 
•'Where  am  I?”  she  said,  "Safe  with  friends  in  Fort 
Laramie.”  "Oh,  is  it  true,  or  is  it  a  dream?”  Being 
assured  it  was  true,  never  did  mortal  offer  up  a  more 
fervent  silent  thanksgiving  than  poor  me  at  that  time. 
Among  my  first  inquiries  was  to  know  if  Waunena  was 
safe.  Though  it  was  gain  that  prompted  him  to  save 
me,  I  felt  greatly  indebted  to  him,  and  thanked  him 
with  a  grateful  heart. 

The  rest  is  soon  told.  Ere  many  days  I  was  speeding 
my  way  over  the  U.  P.  R.  R.,  thinking  of  the  dear 
friends  I  was  soon  to  meet,  and  did  meet.  To  God  the 
Father  be  all  the  glory  ascribed  for  his  tender  mercies 
and  delivering  hand. 


PART  IV. 


MISCELLANEOUS  SKETCHES. 


ON  TO  LEADVILLE,  OR  HOW  A  FORTUNE  HUNTER 
BECAME  A  TRAMP. 


The  rich  discoveries  at  Leadville  caused  quite  an  ex¬ 
citement  throughout  the  world .  Many  persons  without 
due  consideration  set  out  to  hunt  for  a  fortune  in  the 
famed  Carbonate  camp.  The  following  narrative  con¬ 
cerning  one  who  thus  came  West  was  told  to  the  editor 
by  the  “invalid”  mentioned  in  the  article.  It  is  a  true 
narrative: 

Alfred  was  born  and  raised  in  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  the 
only  son  of  fond  parents,  and  like  many  sons  of  wealth, 
he  was  brought  up  without  any  practical  experience  in 
business.  What  a  great  mistake  is  thus  made  to  give 
children  a  liberal  education  of  the  head,  and  it  may  be  a 
good  education  of  the  heart,  and  not  give  them  a 
thorough,  practical  knowledge  of  business,  or  a  useful 
trade.  Riches  may  take  wings  and  fly  away,  therefore 
every  son,  and  we  might  say  daughter  too,  ought  to  go 
forth  prepared  for  self  dependence  in  the  great  drama  of 
life. 

When  the  great  excitement  about  the  Leadville  mines 
became  noised  abroad,  Alfred  became  ambitious  to  go 

(189) 


190  “ON  TO  leadville!” 

forth  and  try  his  luck  in  the  great  Carbonate  camp.  His 
father  seeing  he  was  intent  on  going,  finally  consented 
and  gave  him  a  good  send  off  in  the  way  of  money  in  his 
pocket,  and  a  large  trunk  full  of  valuable  clothing. 

It  was  a  sad  day,  as  might  be  supposed,  to  Alfred’s 
mother  to  thus  see  her  only  son  leave  the  parental  roof 
and  go  out  into  the  rough,  treacherous  world.  He  went 
forth  with  a  father’s  advice  and  a  mother’s  blessing  rest¬ 
ing  over  his  defenseless  head. 

“On  to  Leadville,”  was  his  motto,  and  while  stopping 
a  few  days  in  the  busy  city  of  Denver,  he  heard  conflict¬ 
ing  reports  concerning  the  camp  he  had  set  out  to  reach. 
Nothing  daunted,  however,  he  pushed  on  to  the  moun¬ 
tains  and  over  the  lofty  range,  until  he  found  the  place 
where  he  hoped  to  pick  up  a  fortune.  Alas!  for  human 
hopes  and  the  caprices  of  fickle  fortune. 

Distance  often  lends  enchantment  to  the  view.  Now 
that  he  had  reached  Leadville  he  saw  that  it  took  labor, 
persevering  hard  work,  or  business  tact  and  money  to 
even  get  a  smile  from  dame  fortune.  Not  used  to  work, 
inexperienced  in  business  and  with  but  a  hundred  or  two 
dollars  in  his  pocket  he  was  poorly  prepared  to  do  any¬ 
thing  by  which  he  might  become  a  millionaire,  and  the 
result  was  his  stock  of  ready  cash  dwindled  down  to  a 
small  figure.  He  wrote  to  his  father  he  had  not  as  yet 
struck  a  showing  of  prosperity,  hence  wanted  some  more 
money.  It  was  sent,  and  this  he  done  the  third  time 
and  then  said  he,  “I  will  send  for  no  more,  I  have  no 
claims  for  support  from  my  parents;”  and  the  pride  of 
his  heart  gave  him  a  determination  to  depend  on  his  own 
exertions  and  suffer  whatever  lot  befell  him.  The  early 


ARTS  OF  TRAMP  LIFE.  IQI 

training  that  he  had  received  in  regard  to  morals  kept 
him  from  indulging  in  strong  drink  or  going  into  the  way 
of  the  vicious.  Yet  his  money  would  dwindle  away,  as 
it  took  considerable  to  live  in  that  remote  camp.  His 
money  all  gone,  next  he  bartered  away  his  spare  cloth¬ 
ing,  and  lastly  his  trunk;  and  soon  he  was  penniless,  his 
manly  spirit  broken,  and  his  only  alternative  was  to 
write  for  money  to  return  or  enter  on  the  course  of  the 
moneyless  tramp.  He  still  was  too  proud  to  think  of 
doing  the  first,  so  he  chose  the  lattter.  At  times  he 
could  get  his  board  by  helping  about  the  boarding  houses, 
but  at  last  this  chance  to  gain  honest  bread  failed  him, 
and  he  soon,  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  learned  the  arts 
of  tramp  life.  Sometimes  he  would  mingle  with  the 
crowd  of  guests  going  into  the  dining  room  at  the  hotels 
or  boarding  houses  and  get  a  meal,  and  then  make  his 
escape  as  best  he  could  from  the  landlord.  Upon  one 
such  occasion  he  had  taken  his  seat  at  the  table,  the 
proprietor  noticed  him  and  walked  to  where  he  was, 
without  saying  a  word  raised  a  cane  to  strike  him.  He 
however  dodged  the  blow,  which  struck  the  plate  sever¬ 
ing  it  into  many  pieces.  It  is  needless  to  say  he  left 
very  abruptly. 

He  finally  ceased  writing  to  his  parents,  thought  they 
would  write  to  him  inquiring  of  his  whereabouts.  He 
got  a  letter  from  his  father  stating  that  his  mother  had 
died.  This  was  a  severe  blow  to  him,  as  he  judged  his 
absence  and  silence  had  not  a  little  to  do  with  her 
demise.  Ah,  yes!  grief  and  sorrow  has  brought  many  a 
parent’s  head  down  to  an  untimely  grave. 

Leaving  Leadville,  with  all  its  allurements,  which  to 


192  HUNGER  GNAWING  AT  HIS  VITALS. 

him  now  seemed  as  hollow  mockery,  he  wandered  back 
to  Denver.  Step  by  step  he  passed  through  the  various 
stages  of  a  professional  tramp.  Too  honest  to  steal  and 
too  proud  to  beg,  only  when  it  was  the  only  alternative 
to  keep  from  starving,  it  is  needless  to  say  he  went  many 
a  day  without  food,  and  slept  in  out-houses  or  in  saloons. 
He  sought  work,  but  his  appearance  was  against  him. 
Occasionally  he  would  get  a  meal’s  victuals  at  some 
boarding  house  as  a  compensation  for  some  menial  ser¬ 
vice  in  the  back  yard. 

One  bright  morning,  with  hunger  gnawing  at  his  vitals, 
he  set  out  walking  down  one  street  and  up  another,  he 
hardly  knew  why  or  where  he  should  go.  By  chance  he 
came  to  Charpiot’s  hotel;  on  the  pavement  in  front  of 
the  house  sat  a  number  of  gentlemen.  As  he  was  about 
to  pass  his  eye  caught  that  of  one  of  the  party,  and  from 
some  unaccountable  impulse,  contrary  to  his  usual  cus¬ 
tom,  he  stopped  short  and  addressing  his  speech  to  the 
gentleman,  said: 

“Sir,  can  you  give  me  work  that  I  may  earn  some¬ 
thing  to  eat,  as  I  have  had  nothing  since  yesterday 
morning.  ” 

The  gentleman  whom  he  addressed  was  an  invalid 
from  New  York,  now  much  improved  in  health,  and 
though  accustomed  to  meet  with  beggars  and  poverty 
such  as  is  always  found  more  or  less  in  great  cities,  there 
was  something  about  the  young  man  that  attracted  his 
attention,  and  his  interest  in  him  was  aroused  some¬ 
what.  Says  he: 

“Why  do  you  make^such  a  request  of  me,  a  stranger?” 

Says  the  young  man,  “I  don’t  know  why.” 


A  ‘  "hearty”  breakfast. 


193 


Then  his  name  was  asked,  and  his  father’s  name,  and 
where  his  father  lived.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  it 
turned  out  that  this  young  man  was  the  son  of  an  old 
friend  and  former  partner  of  the  old  man  to  whom  the 
tramp  had  spoken.  Twenty-five  years  had  passed  since 
they  had  separated,  one  to  continue  his  business  in  Cin¬ 
cinnati,  the  other  to  try  his  fortune  in  New  York.  May 
we  not,  with  propriety,  harbor  the  thought  that  the 
angelic  spirit  of  the  young  man’s  mother  had  something 
to  do  in  prompting  her  suffering  son  to  go  as  he  went 
that  morning,  and  address  the  stranger  as  he  had,  and 
cause  the  old  friend  to  look  on  him  as  he  had  done. 
How  true  that, 

“Behind  a  frowning  providence, 

God  hides  a  smiling  face.” 

The  old  gentleman  arose  from  the  chair  and  led  the 
way  to  a  restaurant  and  gave  orders  to  let  the  young 
man  have  his  breakfast  and  he  would  pay  for  it.  When 
he  settled  the  bill  the  clerk  said,  ‘  ‘Where  did  you  pick 
up  that  ‘stick,’  he  eat  as  though  he  has  had  nothing  for  a 
week?” 

The  gentleman,  after  further  conversation  with  the 
young  man  as  to  how  he  came  to  be  in  such  circum¬ 
stances,  purchased  for  him  five  dollars’  worth  of  restau¬ 
rant  tickets  and  gave  to  him,  saying:  “I  want  to  see  you 
occasionally,  and  want  you  to  remain  in  the  city  for  the 
present.”  The  young  man  begged  of  him  not  to  write 
to  his  father  concerning  him,  and  said  that  had  he  known 
that  he  knew  his  father  he  would  not  have  told  his  true 
name.  “I  have  forfeited  all  right  to  my  father’s  care 
and  do  not  wish  for  him  to  know  where  I  am.” 


194 


AN  ASTONISHED  YOUNG  MAN. 


Before  an  hour  had  passed  the  gentleman  might  have 
been  seen  in  the  telegraph  office  writing  a  message  to  be 
sent  to  Cincinnati,  something  as  follows:  “Your  son  is 
here  in  destitute  circumstances.  Come  and  get  him.” 

In  due  time  the  following  answer  flashed  over  the 
wires:  “For  God’s  sake  keep  him  until  I  come.  I  leave 
on  first  train.” 

At  Kansas  City  he  telegraphed  to  Denver:  “Is  all 
right?  Answer  me  at  Topeka.”  The  response  was: 
“Yes,  the  coast  is  clear.  Will  meet  you  at  depot.” 

On  the  arrival  of  the  train  at  Denver  those  two  old 
friends  warmly  greeted  each  other;  there  was  much  im¬ 
patience  on  the  part  of  the  father  to  meet  his  son.  It 
seemed  he  could  hardly  wait  until  the  ’bus  would  convey 
him  to  the  hotel  and  he  get  ready  to  go  in  quest  of  the 
object  of  his  coming.  His  friend  led  him  to  a  saloon 
where  the  young  man  was  in  the  habit  of  spending  much 
of  his  time  lounging  in  the  chairs  or  on  the  long  benches 
that  sat  along  the  wall.  Stepping  inside  the  friend  says, 
“There  he  is,  over  on  that  side.” 

It  was  not  much  wonder  the  father  asked,  “where?” 
Although  he  expected  to  find  his  son  in  destitute  circum¬ 
stances,  he  had  no  idea  he  would  find  him  in  such  a 
plight;  a  remnant  of  an  old  hat,  coat  in  rags,  pants  six 
inches  too  short,  one  sock  minus  the  upper  half,  shoes 
from  which  his  bare  toes  “looked  out,”  unkemp  hair,  and 
in  fact  a  miserable  appearance  in  every  respect.  The 
son  did  not  recognize  his  father  until  he  stood  before 
him  and  said: 

“Alfred,  what  are  you  doing  here?” 

To  say  Alfred  was  astonished  by  no  means  tells  the 


A  PRACTICAL  LESSON. 


195 


all  of  his  surprise.  He  looked  as  though  it  would  be  a 
great  relief  if  he  could  sink  through  the  floor  out  of 
sight. 

His  father  said:  “Let  us  go  out  of  here.”  He  obeyed, 
and  going  first  to  a  barber  shop,  where  he  went  through 
a  process  of  “shampooing,”  etc.,  thence  to  a  bath-room, 
and  then  to  a  clothing  store,  it  was  not  long  until  the 
miserable  tramp  was  transformed  into  a  genteel  looking 
young  man.  The  regenerating  influences  of  soap  and 
water  and  clean  clothes  put  new  life  into  him.  His 
shame  having  worn  off  and  the  prospects  ahead  being 
better,  he  became  cheerful,  and  related  to  our  informant 
the  experiences  of  his  life  from  the  time  he  left  home 
until  he  had  so  strangely  met  him. 

After  a  few  days  he  with  his  father  left  for  their  home, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  both  are  wiser  men.  The  father 
should  have  learned  that  something  more  than  money 
and  school  education  is  necessary  to  insure  success  for 
their  children  in  life;  that  practical  experience  at  a 
trade  or  occupation  is  essential.  And  the  son  has 
learned,  “all  is  not  gold  that  glitters”  and  that  “business” 
is  worth  more  than  aught  else  to  to  insure  success  in 
life. 


:o: 


SAVED  FROM  CAPTIVITY. 


A  THRILLING  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CAPTIVITY  AND  RELEASE 
OF  THE  MEEKER  FAMILY  AND  MRS.  PRICE  AND 
CHILDREN. 


Father  Meeker,  as  he  was  called,  was  one  of  the 
original  settlers  of  the  Greeley  Colony  in  Colorado,  a 
special  friend  of  Horace  Greeley,  and  his  representative 
in  the  new  colony — and  the  Editor  in  Chief  of  the 
“Greeley  Tribune”  for  many  years.  He  was  one  of  the 
prime  factors  in  the  colony  enterprise. 

Father  Meeker  entertained  the  opinion  that  if  the 
government  would  provide  schools  for  the  Indians  at  the 
agencies  and  provide  them  with  agricultural  implements, 
seed,  and  men  to  teach  them  how  to  farm,  they  would 
soon  be  self-supporting  and  arise  to  a  higher  state  of 
civilization.  In  consequence  of  his  persistent  efforts  in 
this  direction  he  was  appointed  Indian  agent  at  the 
White  River  Agency.  The  government  acquiesced  in  his 
desires  to  set  on  foot  his  cherished  plans.  Men  were 
furnished  him,  also  seed  and  implements.  His  own 
daughter,  Rosa,  went  to  the  agency  and  commenced  a 
school.  Sometime  later  the  family  moved  to  the  agency. 
Then  Mr.  Meeker  commenced  ploughing  the  land  where 
the  Indians  grazed  their  ponies;  then  trouble  com¬ 
menced.  He  was  cruelly  abused  by  some  of  the  stub¬ 
born  ‘  ‘bucks”  who  said,  if  our  children  are  educated  and 
we  learn  how  to  farm  then  we  all  have  to  work  like  the 
“pale  faces”.  Owing  to  this  abuse  and  the  ^rebellious 

096) 


SAFE  ON  THEIR  WAY  HOME.  1 97 

disposition  of  some  of  the  Indians,  he  sent  for  troops  to 
assist  in  carrying  out  his  friendly  policy. 

When  the  tribe  learned  by  scouts  that  soldiers  were 
coming,  and,  as  they  surmised,  by  request  of  Agent 
Meeker,  they  at  once  went  out  to  meet  them.  The 
fearful  slaughter  of  Thornburg  and  part  of  his  command 
was  the  result.  Then  the  returning  Indians  fell  upon 
the  the  inoffensive  father  and  their  real  friend  and 
butchered  him  in  a  shocking  manner,  and  captured  and 
carried  off  his  family  and  the  family  of  Mr.  Price,  whom 
they  also  killed,  with  all  the  white  men  at  the  agency. 

No  sooner  was  it  learned  that  the  family  was  taken 
into  captivity,  than  means  were  used  for  their  release. 
General  Adams  and  Colonel  Cline  were  sent  out  with 
troops  and  friendly  Indians,  who  by  forced  marches  soon 
came  up  with  the  Indians  and  a  release  of  the  prisoners 
was  effected.  The  following  account  gives  some  of  the 
details.  We  give  it  as  it  was  published  in  the  “Mirror” 
soon  after  the  occurrence  took  place: 

“The  women  and  children  are  all  safe.”  This  short 
message  as  it  came  flashing  over  the  wires,  sent  a  thrill 
of  joy  to  many  a  heart.  On  hearing  it,  the  first  expres¬ 
sion  of  my  heart,  as  also  of  many  others,  was,  “Thank 
God.”  Being  well  acquainted  with  the  Meeker  family 
we  felt  a  deep  concern  for  their  welfare  and  was  made 
to  rejoice  when  we  learned  that  they  whose  fate  was  so 
uncertain,  were  now  safe  among  friends  and  on  their 
way  home.  Their  reception  in  Greeley  was  an  event 
long  to  be  remembered.  The  whole  community  gave 
expression  in  the  most  fitting  manner  of  the  deep  sym¬ 
pathy  they  felt  for  them  in  their  sorrows,  and  was  ready 


1 98  WAITING  IN  SUSPENSE. 

to  weep  with  them,  as  well  as  rejoice  with  them  in  their 
deliverance  from  savage  captivity.  The  women  express 
themselves  as  most  thankful  for  their  early  deliverance 
though  the  twenty-two  days  of  their  captivity  seemed  an 
age  to  them.  They  at  times  had  but  little  hope  of  ever 
seeing  their  friends  again;  said  Mrs.  Meeker,  '‘I  hardly 
knew  what  to  expect.  At  times  the  Indians  almost 
ignored  us,  and  went  forward  with  their  councils  with¬ 
out  regarding  our  preseuce  at  all;  again  they  jeered,  and 
taunted,  and  threatened  us;  at  other  times  they  were 
comparatively  pleasant.  There  was  but  one  who  seemed 
determined  to  protect  us.  This  was  Susan,  Johnson's 
wife,  who  has  shown  herself,  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  the  troubles,  a  woman  of  fine  feeling,  and  genuine¬ 
ly  kind  in  her  disposition  to  her  fellow  creatures.  I 
can  never  forget  or  repay  her  kindness  to  myself  and 
daughter,  and  our  entire  family.  She  is  a  good  woman. 
“Yes,  as  to  the  threats,"  said  she,  being  requested  to 
proceed,  “we  hardly  expected  to  see  the  faces  of  our 
friends  in  a  civilized  land;  yet  we  never  lost  hope,  yet 
at  times  were  very  despondent  indeed.  We  hoped,  and 
yet  we  feared,  at  all  times." 

The  entire  story  ot  the  captivity  is  of  interest.  When 
General  Adams  approached,  which  was  noticed  by  the 
Indians,  they  rushed  the  captives  into  a  secure  place  in 
the  brush  where  he  could  not  see  or  hear  them.  They 
were  securely  guarded  while  the  conference  which  was 
held  was  in  progress.  Their  camp  was  on  a  tributary 
of  the  Grand  River.  Of  course  the  arrival  of  General 
Adams  was  hailed  with  joy,  but  five  long  hours  passed 
before  they  knew  whether  he  brought  them  deliverance 


A  NOBLE  WOMAN’S  PLEA. 


199 


or  he  would  be  compelled  to  go  away  and  leave  them 
with  their  horrid  captors.  The  council  which  succeeded 
General  Adams’  arrival,  lasted  five  hours,  and  was 
marked  by  great  vehemence  on  the  part  of  the  Indian 
orators  who  took  part.  There  were  two  parties — a 
peace  and  a  war  faction — and  for  awhile  war  seemed 
bound  to  win  the  day.  In  the  pow-wow,  Susan,  the 
squaw,  who  is  referred  to  above,  took  a  leading  part  in 
the  controversy,  and  she  raised  her  voice  for  peace,  and 
she  did  good  work.  Susan,  besides  being  Johnson’s 
wife,  is  a  sister  of  the  great  chief,  Ouray,  whose  council 
is  still  more  weighty  among  the  Indians.  She  was  sup¬ 
posed  to  represent  her  brother  in  a  measure.  Her  words 
were  listened  to  with  respect,  and  were  allowed  to  have 
their  full  weight.  Notwithstanding  her  entreaties  and 
General  Adams’  representation  of  the  case,  it  at  one 
time  seemed  as  if  the  Indians  would  absolutely  refuse  to 
surrender  their  captives.  They  were  determined  to  keep 
and  make  the  most  of  them. 

Susan  was  followed  by  her  husband,  Johnson,  who 
also  made  a  speech  advocating  the  release  of  the 
captives — in  fact,  made  a  strong  appeal  in  favor  of  the 
women,  setting  forth  their  great  grief  and  the  advantage 
to  the  Indians  in  this  release,  which  might  secure  special 
consideration  for  them  when  it  should  come  to  arranging 
a  treaty.  He  quoted  and  dwelt  with  emphasis  on 
Ouray’s  advice  to  the  Northern  Utes.  It  was  a  novel 
attempt,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  to  see  a  squaw  address¬ 
ing  the  hardy  warriors.  Susan  has  taken  first  rank  as  a 
leader  among  them.  The  instance  was  the  first  one  on 
record  of  a  squaw  joining  an  important  council  and  tak- 


200 


THE  COMPROMISE. 


in g  a  prominent  part  in  it.  As  is  well  known,  the  Utes 
make  slaves  of  the  women,  and,  so  far  as  the  councils 
are  concerned,  impose  the  same  silence  on  them  that  St. 
Paul  did.  It  is  supposed  that  in  this  case  Susan  was 
listened  to  because  she  was  supposed  to  represent  Ouray, 
and  to  Ouray  the  Indians  now  look  to  save  them  in  pro¬ 
curing  peace.  At  any  rate  she  obtained  a  hearing,  and 
she  pleaded  well.  Johnson,  her  husband,  an  influential 
chief,  is  supposed  to  have  been  brought  by  her  to  the 
advocating  of  a  peace  policy,  for,  as  he  will  be  and  has 
been  regarded  in  a  large  measure  responsible  for  it,  now 
to  see  him  come  boldly  forward  and  advocate  lenient 
measures,  convinces  one  that  resolution  is  possible  even 
among  savages.  Nothwithstanding  their  eloquent  appeals, 
however,  it  is  probable  that  the  ladies  would  not  be  re¬ 
leased  had  not  Gen.  Adams  risen  from  his  seat  and  told 
the  Indians  that  they  must  give  an  affirmative  or  he 
would  give  immediate  orders  to  the  soldiers  to  pursue 
their  own  course  toward  the  Indians.  They  then  prom¬ 
ised  to  release  the  prisoners  unconditionally,  with  the 
hope  that  the  General  would  use  his  best  efforts  to  pre¬ 
vent  the  invasion  of  the  soldiers  for  the  present. 

The  history  of  the  prisoners  during  their  captivity 
forms  a  most  pathetic  chapter.  After  the  killing  of 
Agent  Meeker,  the  women  attempted  to  escape  into 
the  brush  from  the  burning  building.  Mrs.  Meeker 
was  fired  at,  with  the  result  of  a  flesh  wound  in  the 
hip,  four  inches  in  length.  Mrs.  Meeker  and  Mrs. 
Price  were  called  to  by  Indians:  4  4No  shoot  white  women; 
stop;  Indian  no  hurt.”  They  were  mounted;  Miss 
Meeker,  with  Mrs.  Price’s  eldest  child,  four  years 


A  PATIENT  SUFFERER. 


201 


old,  tied  behind  her;  Mrs.  Price,  with  her  infant  in 
her  arms,  and  Mrs.  Meeker,  who  is  64  years  of  age, 
and  lame  from  her  wound.  When  they  struck  the 
camp  at  midnight,  Mrs.  Meeker  was  dismounted,  and 
fell  to  the  ground  unable  to  move,  and  the  Indians 
surrounded  her  and  added  to  the  misery  of  the  situa¬ 
tion  by  jeering  and  taunting  “the  old  white  squaw.”  The 
next  morning  they  were  separated,  Douglass  retaining 
the  charge  of  Mrs.  Meeker,  and  Persune  taking  Miss 
Meeker,  while  Mrs.  Price  and  children  were  in  the 
charge  of  Uncompahgre  Ute. 

The  sufferings  of  Mrs.  Meeker  were  indescribable 
during  her  stay  with  Douglass,  whose  squaw  abused 
her  by  neglect,  pushing,  striking  and  taunts.  On  one 
occasion  Douglass  threw  down  blankets,  and  compelled 
Miss  Meeker  to  dismount,  saying  they  were  going  into 
camp.  He  then  said  they  were  going  to  stab  them,  and 
exhibited  the  butcher-knives  to  be  used  for  the  purpose. 
Then  he  placed  a  musket  to  her  forehead,  and  said, 
“Indian  going  to  shoot.”  The  courageous  girl  never 
flinched,  and  laughed  at  the  burly  savage.  He  asked 
her  if  she  was  afraid,  and  her  ready  response,  “I  am  not 
afraid  of  Indians  or  death,”  elicited  the  admiration  of  the 
red  demons.  They  turned  upon  chief  Douglass  in  deri¬ 
sion,  and  he  slunk  from  the  presence  of  the  brave  Miss 
Meeker.  Soon  after  this  they  were  placed  in  the  charge 
of  chief  Johnson,  and  through  the  instrumentality  of 
Johnson’s  squaw,  their  condition  was  very  much  im¬ 
proved,  and  further  indignities  ceased. 

Susan  proved  to  be  the  guardian  spirit,  and  had  it  not 
been  for  her  intercession  the  fate  of  the  women  would 


202 


PREPARING  FOR  A  MASSACRE. 


have  formed  one  of  the  blackest  pages  of  Indian  devil¬ 
try. 

Through  the  fearful  ordeal  of  captivity  Mrs.  Price  and 
Miss  Meeker  almost  fought  for  the  rights  of  poor  old  Mrs. 
Meeker.  They  could  use  a  little  Spanish  and  Ute, 
and  their  defiance  of  intruding  Indians,  and  readiness  to 
to  resist  insult  to  the  old  lady,  challenged  the  respect  of 
even  the  blood-thirsty  aborigines.  They  would  push  the 
savages  right  and  left  when  interfered  with,  and  on  mak¬ 
ing  complaint  to  Susan,  would  face  the  Indians,  while 
Susan  laid  down  the  law  and  penalty;  and  to  this  fact 
may  be  attributed  the  many  favors  of  which  they  would 
otherwise  have  been  deprived. 

Miss  Meeker’s  story  is  full  of  vivid  details.  She  says: 

4 ‘The  first  I  heard  of  any  trouble  with  the  Indians  at 
my  father’s  agency  was  the  firing  at  Mr.  Price,  while  he 
was  plowing  for  Indian  crops  according  to  government 
instructions.  The  Indians  had  the  idea,  and  said,  that 
as  soon  as  the  land  was  plowed  it  would  cease  to  belong 
to  the  Utes.  Two  or  three  councils  were  held,  and  an 
Indian  woman,  Jane,  the  wife  of  Panvitts,  was  the  cause 
of  the  whole  trouble. 

The  trouble  seemed  settled  by  two  or  three  councils, 
secretly,  however.  The  Utes  were  preparing  for  a  mas¬ 
sacre,  for  just  before  Eskridge  left  with  the  Indians  a 
runner  was  seen  rushing  up  to  the  tent  of  Douglass  with 
what  I  since  learned  was  news  of  soldiers  fighting.  Half 
an  hour  later  twenty  armed  Indians  came  to  the  agency 
from  the  camp  of  Douglass,  and  began  firing. 

I  was  in  the  kitchen  with  my  mother,  washing  dishes. 
It  was  afternoon.  I  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  saw 


MRS.  MEEKER  WOUNDED. 


203 


the  Utes  shooting  the  boys  working  on  the  new  building. 
Mrs.  Price  was  at  the  door  washing  clothes.  She  rushed 
in  and  took  Johnnie,  the  baby,  to  fly.  We  ran  into  the 
milk-room,  which  had  only  one  small  window,  and  lock¬ 
ed  the  door,  and  hid  under  a  shelf.  The  firing  went  on 
for  several  hours  at  intervals.  There  was  no  shouting, 
no  noise,  but  frequent  firing.  We  staid  in  the  milk-room 
until  it  began  to  fill  with  smoke.  The  sun  was  half  an 
hour  high.  I  took  May  Price,  three  years  old,  and  we  all 
ran  to  father’s  room.  It  was  not  disturbed.  We  knew 
the  building  would  be  burned,  and  ran  across  Douglass 
avenue  to  a  field  of  sage-brush  beyond  plowed  ground. 
The  Utes  were  so  busy  stealing  annuity  goods  they  did 
not  see  us  at  first.  About  thirty  of  them,  loaded  with 
blankets,  were  carrying  them  toward  Douglass’  camp, 
near  the  river. 

We  had  gone  100  yards  when  the  Utes  saw  us.  They 
threw  down  the  blankets  and  came  running  toward  us, 
firing  as  they  came.  Bullets  whizzed  as  thick  as  grass¬ 
hoppers  around  us.  I  do  not  think  they  intended  to  kill 
us — only  to  frighten  us.  Mother  was  hit  by  a  bullet, 
which  went  through  her  underclothing,  and  made  a  flesh 
wound  three  inches  long. 

As  the  Indians  came  nearer  they  shouted:  ‘We  no 
shoot;  come  to  us.”  I  had  a  little  girl,  and  an  Indian 
named  Pursune  said  for  me  to  go  with  him.  He  and 
another  Ute  seized  me  by  the  arms  and  started  toward 
the  river.  An  Uncompahgre  Indian  took  Mrs.  Price  and 
her  baby,  and  mother  was  taken  to  the  headquarters  of 
Douglass. 

The  Indian  Pursune  took  me  where  his  ponies  were 


204  A  WRATHFUL  CHIEF. 

standing  by  the  river,  and  seated  me  on  a  pile  of  blank¬ 
ets.  Indians  were  now  on  all  sides;  I  could  not  escape. 
It  was  now  sundown.  Packing  was  finished  at  dusk, 
and  we  started  for  the  wilderness  of  the  south.  I  rode 
a  horse  with  a  saddle,  but  no  bridle.  The  child  was 
lashed  behind  me.  Pursune  and  his  assistants  rode  each 
side  of  me,  driving  pack  mules  ahead.  About  twenty 
other  Indians  were  in  the  party.  Mother  came  laterf 
riding  bareback  behind  Douglass,  both  on  one  horse. 
She  was  sixty-four  years  old,  feeble  in  health,  wounded, 
and  not  recovered  from  a  broken  thigh  caused  by  a  fall 
two  years  ago.  Chief  Douglass  gave  her  neither  horse, 
saddle  nor  blankets.  We  followed  the  river,  and,  on  the 
other  side,  Pursune  brought  me  a  hatful  of  water  to 
drink.  We  trotted  along  until  9  o’clock,  when  we  halted 
for  a  half  hour.  All  the  Indians  dismounted,  andblank- 
kets  were  spread  upon  the  ground,  and  I  laid  down  to 
rest,  with  mother  lying  not  far  from  me.  Chief  Doug¬ 
lass  was  considerably  excited  and  made  a  speech  to  me 
with  many  gestures  and  great  emphasis.  He  recited  his 
grievances,  and  explained  why  the  massacre  began.  He 
said  Thornburgh  told  the  Indians  he  was  going  to  arrest 
the  head  chiefs,  take  them  to  Fort  Steele,  and  put  them 
in  a  calaboose,  perhaps  hang  them.  He  said  my  father 
had  written  all  the  letters  to  the  Denver  papers,  and  cir¬ 
culated  wild  reports  about  what  the  Indians  would  do, 
and  was  responsible  for  all  the  hostility  against  the  In¬ 
dians  among  the  Whites  West.  While  Douglass  was 
telling  this  he  stood  in  front  of  me  with  his  gun,  and  his 
anger  was  dreadful.  He  said  father  had  always'  been 
writing  to  Washington.  Then  he  swore  a  fearful  oath 


NOT  AFRAID  OF  INDIANS. 


20$ 


in  English,  and  said  if  the  soldiers  had  not  come  and 
threatened  the  Indians  with  Fort  Steele  and  the  cala¬ 
boose,  and  threatened  to  kill  other  Indians  at  White 
river,  the  Agent  wouldn’t  have  been  massacred.  Then 
the  brave  chief,  Douglass,  who  had  eaten  at  our  table 
that  very  day,  walked  away  a  few  feet,  returned,  and 
placed  his  gun  at  my  forehead  three  times,  and  asked 
me  if  I  was  going  to  run  away.  I  told  him  I  was  not 
afraid  of  him  nor  of  death,  and  should  not  run  away. 
When  he  found  his  repeated  threats  could  not  frighten 
me,  all  the  other  Indians  turned  on  him  and  laughed  at 
him,  and  made  so  much  fun  he  sneaked  off,  and  went 
over  to  frighten  my  mother.  All  hands  took  a 
drink  around  my  bed;  then  they  saddled  their  horses, 
and  Pursune  led  my  horse  to  me,  and  knelt  down  on  his 
hands  and  knees  for  me  to  mount  my  horse  from  his 
back. 

We  urged  our  horses  forward,  and  journeyed  in  moon¬ 
light  through  to  the  Grand  mountains,  with  the  Indians 
talking  in  low  tones  among  themselves.  It  was  after 
midnight  when  we  made  the  second  halt  in  a  deep  and 
somber  canyon.  Mother  was  not  allowed  to  come  up. 
Douglass  kept  her  with  him,  half  a  mile  further  down 
the  ravine.  Then  the  squaws  came,  and  laughed,  and 
grinned,  and  gibbered.  When  I  had  lain  down  on  the 
blankets  two  squaws  sang  and  danced  fantastically  at 
my  feet.  Other  Indians  stood  around,  and  when  the 
women  reached  a  certain  part  of  their  recitative,  all 
broke  into  laughter.  Next  day  Pursune  went  to  fight 
the  soldiers,  and  placed  me  in  charge  of  his  wife,  with 
her  three  children.  That  same  day  mother  came  up  to  see 


20  6 


LONG  AND  DISTRESSING. 


me  in  company  with  a  little  Indian  girl.  Wednesday, 
next  day,  Johnson  went  over  to  Jack’s  camp,  and  brought 
back  Mrs.  Price  and  her  baby  to  live  in  his  camp.  He 
said  he  had  made  it  all  right  with  the  other  Utes.  We 
did  not  do  anything  but  be  around  the  various  camps 
and  listen  to  the  squaws  whose  husbands  were  away 
fighting  the  soldiers. 

Sunday  night  Jack  came  and  made  a  big  speech;  also 
Johnson.  They  said  more  troops  were  coming,  and  re¬ 
cited  what  orders  had  been  brought  from  Chief  Ouray. 
They  were  in  great  commotion,  and  did  not  know  what 
to  do.  They  talked  all  night,  and  the  next  morning  struck 
their  tents,  and  put  them  up  again.  Part  were  for  going 
away,  part  for  staying.  We  had  a  long  ride.  The  cav¬ 
alcade  was  fully  two  miles  long.  The  wind  blew  a  hur¬ 
ricane,  and  the  dust  was  so  thick  we  could  not  see  ten 
feet  back.  Most  of  the  Indians  had  no  breakfast,  and 
we  traveled  all  day  without  dinner  or  water.  Mother  had 
neither  saddle  nor  stirrups,  but  merely  a  few  thicknesses 
of  canvas  strapped  on  the  horse’s  back,  while  the  young 
chiefs  pranced  round  on  good  saddles.  She  did  not 
reach  Grand  River  until  after  dark,  and  the  ride  for  an 
invalid  and  aged  woman  was  long  and  distressing. 

After  marching  south  some  days  the  Indians  said  they 
would  stay  at  their  camp,  and  if  the  soldiers  advanced, 
they  would  get  them  in  a  canyon  and  kill  them.  The 
Utes  were  now  close  to  the  Uncompahgre  district,  and 
could  not  retreat  much  further.  Eight  miles  more  travel 
in  two  days  brought  us  to  the  camping  ground  where 
General  Adams  found  us.  This  was  near  Plateau  Creek, 
but  high  up  and  not  far  from  the  snowy  range.  Monday 


THE  RESCUE. 


207 


night  an  Uncompahgre  Ute  came  in  and  said  that  next 
day  General  Adams,  whom  they  called  Washington,  was 
coming  after  the  captives.  Next  day  about  eleven 
o’clock,  while  sewing  in  Pursune’s  tent,  his  boy  came  in, 
picked  up  the  buffalo  robe,  and  wanted  me  to  go  to  bed. 
I  told  him  I  was  not  sleepy.  Then  a  squaw  came  and 
hung  a  blanket  before  the  door  and  spread  out  both 
hands  to  keep  the  blanket  down,  so  I  could  not  push  it 
away,  but  I  looked  over  the  top  and  saw  General  Adams 
and  party  outside  on  horses.  The  squaw’s  movement 
attracted  their  attention  and  they  came  up  close. 

I  pushed  the  squaw  aside  and  walked  out.  They 
asked  me  my  name,  and  dismounted;  said  they  had 
come  to  take  us  back  if  we  cared  to  go.  I  showed  them 
the  tent  where  mother  and  Mrs.  Price  were. 

Next  morning  we  left  for  Uncompahgre  in  the  charge 
of  Captain  Cline  and  Mr.  Sherman. 

The  following  is  a  brief  account  of  the  fight  Major 
Thornburgh  had  with  the  Indians  just  before  the  massacre 
at  the  agency: 

Major  Thornburgh’s  expedition  against  the  hostile  Ute 
Indians,  when  within  seventy-five  miles  of  the  agency, 
halted  for  the  night  of  the  26th  of  September,  and  the 
Major  sent  Grafton  Lowry,  one  of  the  scouts,  to  the 
agency  to  communicate  with  Agent  Meeker  and  to  see 
how  matters  stood.  He  found  the  utmost  excitement 
and  confusion  prevailing.  The  Indians  had  sent  all  their 
old  men,  women  and  children  south  toward  the  Blue 
River.  The  warriors  were  decorated  and  painted  in 
their  usual  style.  They  were  about  to  murder  Meeker, 
but  Mr.  Lowry  prevailed  on  them  not  to  commit  the 


208 


INDIANS  IN  AMBUSH. 


deed .  Mr.  Meeker  told  Lowry  that  he  had  attempted 
to  leave  the  agency  with  his  family,  but  was  prevented 
by  the  Indians,  who  signified  their  readiness  for  war  and 
seemed  anxious  for  the  approach  of  the  troops.  They 
then  made  another  attempt  to  kill  Meeker  and  fire  the 
buildings,  but  were  a  second  time  prevailed  upon  to  de¬ 
sist.  Lowry  now  attempted  to  return  to  his  command, 
but  was  informed  that  he  must  remain.  But  after  giv¬ 
ing  them  a  number  of  assurances  of  his  peaceable  mis¬ 
sion,  he  was  allowed  to  depart,  but  was  accompanied 
by  about  thirty  warriors  who  rode  with  him  a  number  of 
miles  and  then  left  him.  Lowry  arrived  at  the  com¬ 
mand,  then  near  Milk  Creek,  on  the  evening  of  the  28th, 
and  gave  Major  Thornburgh  the  above  information.  The 
next  morning,  September  29th,  the  command  advanced 
under  the  guidance  of  Joe  Rankin,  who  is  well  acquainted 
with  the  country. 

About  9  o’clock  A.  M.  Rankin  discovered  fresh  Indian 
signs,  and  having  arrived  at  a  canon  through  which  the 
road  passed,  and  which  would  afford  an  excellent  oppor¬ 
tunity  for  ambush,  he  led  the  command  over  the  hill, 
over  an  old  trail  well  known  to  him.  By  this  movement 
he  saved  the  lives  of  the  command,  for  on  arriving  at 
the  top  of  the  hill  he  discovered  the  Indians  in  ambush 
on  the  other  side  of  the  canon  through  which  the  road 
passes.  Major  Thornburgh  formed  his  men  in  line  and 
awaited  the  coming  attack.  He  was  repeatedly  urged  to 
Are  on  the  Indians,  but  persistently  refused,  saying  his 
orders  would  not  justify  an  attack,  etc.  Two  Indians 
now  rode  up  to  within  a  hundred  yards,  dismounted,  and 
with  a  savage  yell  fired,  shooting  Captain  Payne  through 


MAJOR  THORNBURG,  ON  THE  MARCH.  (209) 


THE  BLOODY  BATTLE  2og 

the  arm.  At  this  signal  the  Indians  gave  a  war  whoop 
and  the  battle  commenced.  Major  Thornburgh  now 
found  that  he  was  surrounded.  He  ordered  a  charge, 
which  he  gallantly  led  in  person,  and  succeeded  in  cut¬ 
ting  his  way  out,  and  when  within  about  five  hundred 
yards  of  his  wagons  he  fell  dead  with  two  bullets  through 
his  brain .  Captain  Payne  now  took  command  and  the 
battle  was  carried  on  until  eight  o’clock  p.  M.,  the  troops 
using  the  wagons  and  animals  as  breastworks.  The  In¬ 
dians  fell  back  a  short  distance  and  went  into  camp. 
During  the  engagement  Lowry  was  killed. 

- :o: - 

A  TERRIBLE  MASSACRE  OF  INDIANS. 


During  the  early  settlement  of  Colorado  the  Indians 
caused  much  trouble.  Many  bloody  scenes  of  murder 
were  enacted  along  the  valley  of  the  South  Platte  and 
elsewhere.  Things  grew  worse  and  worse,  until  at  last  the 
white  men  rose  up  in  their  might  to  quell  those  disturb¬ 
ances.  One  Colonel  Chivington  had  been  sent  to  take 
command  of  the  district  embracing  Colorodo.  He  was 
prevailed  upon  to  declare  martial  law  and  enlist  every 
man  old  enough  to  go  and  fight  the  Indians.  This  was 
just  fourteen  years  ago.  The  little  army  under  com¬ 
mand  of  Colonel  Chivington,  was  made  up  promptly  of 
brave  men,  used  to  hardships  and  inured  to  danger; 
their  blood  was  up  and  they  were  determined  to  avenge 
the  many  outrages,  insults  and  injuries  inflicted  upon 
the  white  race.  The  following  is  an  account  of  the 


210 


THE  SOLDIERS  SURROUNDED  THEM. 


battle  of  Sand  Creek  as  given  by  one  who  took  part  in 
the  fight. 

“The  soldiers  started  out  from  Denver  in  October  or 
November  in  pursuit,  or  rather,  to  hunt  the  hostiles. 
They  camped  for  some  time  in  Bijou  Basin,  and  while 
there  heard  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  Cheyennes,  who 
were  camped  on  Sand  Creek,  a  tributary  of  the  Arkan¬ 
sas.  Scouts  were  sent  out  and  the  position  thoroughly 
ascertained. 

Having  become  possessed  of  these  facts,  Chivington 
started  direct  for  the  camp  of  the  Indians,  and  marched 
steadily  and  cautiously  until  he  was  very  close  to  them. 
Here  he  camped  for  the  night,  his  troops  lying  down  to 
rest,  while  under  orders  to  be  in  readiness  for  marching 
before  daylight  the  succeeding  morning. 

The  Indians  were  ascertained  to  be  quietly  encamped 
in  a  ravine  along  the  creek.  They  had  finished  their 
savage  orgies,  and  had  long  since  retired  to  sleep  over 
their  many  deeds  of  blood,  and  were  probably  engaged 
in  their  late  morning  dreams  over  scenes  of  scalping  and 
destruction.  They  rested,  as  they  thought,  secure  in 
their  retreat,  and  they  did  not  have  the  least  intimation 
that  their  fate  was  so  close  upon  them.  Lo,  the  poor 
Indian! 

Just  as  the  dawn  of  morning  was  beginning  to  tinge 
the  sky  over  the  eastern  plains,  on  the  25th  of  Novem¬ 
ber,  the  storm  broke .  While  the  aborigines  had  been 
quietly  recruiting  themselves  by  sleep  for  future  work, 
the  soldiery  had  surrounded  them,  leaving  no  gap  for  es¬ 
cape.  Being  ready  for  action,  the  word  to  begin  opera¬ 
tions  was  sent  around  the  circle.  It  had  been  given  out 


COL.  CHIVINGTON’S  SCOUTS.  (21 1) 


■ 


BLOODY  WORK. 


21 1 


that  the  work  was  to  be  final,  and  it  was  the  general 
understanding  among  the  Chivington  force  that  not  an 
Indian  was  to  escape.  The  boys  went  to  work  with  the 
determination  and  the  desire  to  obey  orders  to  the  fullest 
limit.  How  well  they  succeeded,  a  strip  of  country  for 
a  mile  along  Sand  Creek,  almost  covered  with  the  lifeless 
bodies  of  the  redskins,  attested,  when  the  men  ceased 
from  their  bloody  work. 

The  Indians  were  under  the  command  of  Black  Kettle, 
a  warrior  renowned  for  cunning  and  daring,  but  he  was 
taken  completely  by  surprise,  as  were  also  his  entire 
band.  There  were  about  seven  hundred  of  the  Indians 
■ — men,  women  and  children — and  if  any  escaped  to  tell 
the  story  from  the  Indian  standpoint,  no  one  is  cogniz¬ 
ant  of  the  fact.  The  fight  raged  for  almost  half  a  day, 
but  though  the  Indians  fought  bravely  after  recovering 
from  their  surprise,  it  was  a  one-side  affair,  and  they 
fell  thick  and  fast  until  not  a  live  Indian  remained  to 
ornament  the  ground.  The  red  flag  was  raised  from  the 
beginning,  and  according  to  the  pre-arranged  pro¬ 
gramme,  no  mercy  was  shown.  The  hearts  of  the  men, 
of  course,  revolted  at  the  killing  of  the  women  and 
papooses,  and  there  was  many  a  temptation  to  spare 
them,  as  they  cried  and  prayed  for  quarter.  But  it  was, 
for  one  time,  war  to  the  knife.  Western  white  men  had 
stolen  the  mode  of  battle  of  Western  red  men  and  were 
determined  to  teach  them  a  lesson  of  the  power  of  its 
operation.  Many  scenes  are  related  of  the  utter  des¬ 
pair  that  seized  the  foolish  and  frightened  women .  A 
favorite  mode  of  seeking  escape  was  to  run  away  from 
their  camp  fires  and  stick  their  heads  in  the  sand,  either 


212 


NO  MERCY  SHOWN. 


fancying  they  secured  some  degree  of  safety  because  they 
could  not  see  their  pursuers,  or  desiring  to  die  by  an  un¬ 
seen  hand  rather  than  to  behold  their  imminent  danger 
and  have  no  power  to  stay  the  hand  of  the  avenger  or 
avert  death.  They  forsook  their  children  to  seek  their 
own  safety. 

This  was  the  last  battle  between  the  whites  and  In¬ 
dians  that  can  be  called  such  ever  fought  in  Colorado. 
The  plan  pursued  and  the  execution  of  it  were  terrible. 
It  hardly  seemed  fair  and  honorable  that  people  should 
be  taken  so  unawares  and  that  vengeance  (or  justice) 
should  be  dealt  out  so  summarily  and  so  unsparingly; 
but  no  one  who  has  not  suffered  from  the  outrages  of 
the  savages  can  appreciate  the  motive  that  spurred  these 
men  to  action.  To  show  mercy  to  the  Indians  was  to 
do  injustice  to  their  own  families  and  themselves. 

The  news  of  the  success  of  the  Colorado  soldiery  was 
received  in  Denver  with  rejoicing,  because  the  people 
here  felt  that  they  had  been  relieved  of  a  terrible  source 
of  danger  and  fear.  When  the  soldiers  returned  they 
were  the  heroes  of  the  time. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  to  this  decisive  step 
Colorado  owes  the  comparative  immunity  from  Indian 
attacks  and  depredations  which  she  has  enjoyed  since 
that  time.  The  Indians  did  not  discontinue  their  devel- 
ish  conduct,  but,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  estimated  that 
the  wars  which  followed,  and  which  the  humane  govern¬ 
ment  attributes  to  the  Sand  creek  massacre  the  credit 
of  starting,  have  cost  the  national  exchequer  between 
thirty  and  forty  million  dollars.  The  conclusion  may, 
however,  be  drawn  that  if  the  modus  operandi  com- 


A  MOST  DESPERATE  BATTLE.  213 

menced  at  Sand  creek  had  been  persisted  in,  there  would 
have  been  no  need  for  such  outlay  of  money. 

Chivington  was  of  course  taken  to  task  by  the  govern¬ 
ment,  and  a  long  investigation  by  Congress  ensued.  But 
to  him  as  much  as,  or  more  than  any  one  else,  belongs 
the  credit  of  freeing  this  State  from  troublesome  In¬ 
dians,  and  for  that  he  will  be  remembered  here,  even  if  he 
did  kill  seven  hundred  Indians.” 

From  another  source  we  learn  that  several  hundred  of 
the  whites  that  were  engaged  in  this  battle  were  either 
killed  or  wounded.  The  battle  raged  fiercely.  The  In¬ 
dians  fought  with  the  desperation  of  men  fighting  for 
their  families  and  their  lives;  some,  after  they  had  fallen, 
would  rise  upon  their  elbows  and  shoot  at  the  advancing 
enemy.  Under  such  circumstances  as  narrated  above, 
the  Christian  mind  revolts  at  the  terrible  consequences 
of  war  and  bloodshed. 

- :o: - 

A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 


Mr.  Charles  Royer  came  over  the  range  from  Middle 
Park  Monday,  with  several  hundred  pounds  of  game 
meat  with  which  he  left  last  evening  for  Denver.  Mr. 
Royer  relates  a  story  of  a  hairbreadth  escape  he  had 
from  a  bear  while  on  his  hunting  expedition.  He  says 
he  and  his  brother  were  out  hunting  wild  game,  when 
the  two  of  them  got  parted  from  each  other,  and  he, 
while  climbing  up  a  mountain  side,  spied  a  huge  black 
bear  a  few  rods  above  him.  This  was  just  the  kind  of 
game  he  was  after,  and  having  full  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  get  away  with  Mr.  Bruin,  he  leveled  his  rifle 


214 


MR.  BRUIN  ROLLED  OVER. 


at  his  head  and  fired.  Although  the  shot  was  a  good 
one  it  did  not  bring  the  bear  to  the  ground,  but  on  the 
contrary  brought  Mr.  Bruin  to  his  feet  in  a  manner  that 
startled  and  astonished  the  hunter.  However,  Mr.  Royer 
did  not  lose  his  confidence,  and  still  thought  himself 
able  to  cope  with  the  bear,  and  thinking  that  he  would 
take  him  this  time  at  close  range,  he  hurriedly  placed  a 
new  cartridge  in  his  breech-loader  and  awaited  the  ap¬ 
proach  of  the  now  infuriated  beast.  He  did  not  have 
to  wait  long  for  Mr.  Bruin  was  upon  him  in  a  moment. 
Royer  raised  his  rifle  to  the  torn  and  bleeding  head  of 
the  bear  (the  first  shot  had  taken  effect  in  the  jaw)  and 
pulled  the  trigger,  but  the  gun  in  this  supreme  moment 
of  peril  failed  to  go  off,  the  cartridge  missing  fire.  The 
click  of  the  hammer  without  an  explosion  sounded  like 
a  death  knell  to  the  ears  of  the  practiced  hunter,  for  he 
knew  that  an  encounter  in  which  a  horrible  death 
stared  him  in  the  face,  must  ensue.  The  bear  he  knew 
to  be  savagely  angry,  and  he  was  practically  without  a 
defense.  He  had  met  his  fate,  was  the  horrible  reflec¬ 
tion  that  passed  through  his  mind,  and  although  this 
went  through  his  brain  like  a  flash,  it  was  no  sooner 
through  than  the  bear  pounced  upon  him,  and  he  having 
turned  around,  fell  upon  his  face  with  the  bear  upon  his 
back.  The  first  shot  that  was  fired  attracted  the  broth¬ 
er’s  attention,  who  fortunately  at  that  time  was  catching 
up  with  Charley,  and  he  came  running  up  to  his  broth¬ 
er’s  assistance  just  as  the  bear  was  tearing  the  clothes 
from  the  back  of  his  helpless  victim.  Placing  the  muzzle 
of  his  rifle  at  the  bear’s  head  he  sent  a  bullet  crashing 
through  it,  and  Mr.  Bruin  rolled  over  on  his  side  and 


PICKING  BERRIES. 


215 

Mr.  Royer  was  a  free  man,  saved  from  a  terrible  death 
only  by  the  timely  appearance  of  his  brother.  Mr. 
Royer  will  sell  the  carcass  of  the  bear  in  Denver,  and 
keep  his  hide  for  a  lap  robe. 

- :o: - 

A  THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


BY  AN  “OLD  TRAPPER,” 


The  following  thrilling  adventure  we  had  from  a  young 
man  who  spent  five  years  among  the  wilds  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  He  told  us  the  story  by  our  camp-fire  at 
night,  when  the  winds  were  shrieking  over  our  heads 
and  awaking  strange  memories  of  home  and  its  many 
pleasing  associations — the  darkness  hung  down  over 
earth  like  a  funeral  pall.  With  a  single  companion,  he 
had  been  five  days  away  from  his  party,  searching  for 
some  new  stream  on  which  to  trap  bears.  As  the  sun 
was  sinking  on  the  fifth  day,  they  stopped  where  the 
wild  berries  were  growing  very  plentifully,  and  little 
mountain  stream  was  trickling  over  the  rocks;  they 
alighted,  unsaddled  their  horses,  and  placed  their  rifles 
leaning  against  a  tree.  Our  hero  then  turned  towards 
the  bushes  to  pick  some  berries,  and  being  pleased  with 
their  flavor,  and  withal  rather  hungry,  he  did  not  at  first 
notice  a  slight  rustling  among  the  bushes.  When  he  did  he 
sprang  for  his  rifle,  and  had  scarcely  turned  again  before 
an  enormous  grizzly  bear  broke  through  the  bushes  and 
dashed  directly  at  him. 


21 6 


HAD  THE  WRONG  RIFLE. 


His  own  rifle  had  a  single  trigger,  that  of  his  com¬ 
panion’s  a  double,  and  in  his  confusion  he  had  seized 
his  companion’s  instead  of  his  own,  so  that  when  he 
attempted  to  fire,  the  trigger  not  being  properly  set,  his 
effort  was  useless,  a  deadly  faintness  thrilled  him,  and 
for  an  instant  terrible  death  stared  him  in  his  face.  The 
furious  animal  was  crouched  to  spring  upon  him,  his 
companion  was  too  far  off  to  render  him  any  aid,  and 
bewildered  with  terror,  unable  to  account  for  the  state 
of  his  rifle,  and  faint  with  fear,  destruction  seemed  in¬ 
evitable. 

The  animal  sprung,  and  despair  proved  the  poor 
trapper’s  salvation,  for  with  the  motion  his  strength  re¬ 
turned — the  strength  of  desperation,  brought  up  by  the 
last  extremity  of  peril,  and  giving  his  rifle  one  wild 
swing,  he  struck  the  infuriated  beast  upon  the  head 
with  the  heavy  barrel,  while  in  the  very  act  of  descend¬ 
ing  upon  him.  The  bear  was  stunned,  one  of  his  fore 
paws  fastened  on  the  shoulder  of  the  trapper,  as  he  fell, 
and  they  both  came  to  the  ground  together.  The  trapper 
described  his  sensations  at  this  moment  as  lugubrious; 
the  most  wonderfully  brave  men  have  trembled  on  the 
eve  of  battle,  but  when  the  first  discharge  of  firearms 
awakens  the  death-like  silence,  they  rush  into  the  midst 
of  the  fray,  and  fight  like  wild  beasts. 

The  fall  bereft  him  of  the  power  to  move,  and  here 
his  fate  would  have  been  sealed  forever,  but  for  his  com¬ 
panion,  who,  the  instant  he  saw  the  situation,  discharged 
the  other  rifle  and  broke  one  of  the  bear’s  shoulder- 
bones. 

The  shot  would  have  been  more  effectual,  but  he  also 


SHOT  THROUGH  THE  HEAD. 


217 


having  tne  wrong  rifle,  and  being  aware  of  his  mistake, 
had  fired  when  he  thought  he  was  only  setting  the  hair 
trigger. 

The  bear  fell,  however,  still  holding  the  rifle  fast  in 
his  teeth,  close  to  where  the  first  trapper  was  lying,  who 
had  barely  strength  to  seize  the  butt  end  of  the  rifle  once 
more,  set  the  trigger,  and  fire  the  contents  down  the 
animal’s  throat. 

The  grizzly  bear  was  then  soon  dispatched,  and  the 
unfortunate  rifle  is  now  to  be  seen  in  the  museum  of  the 
trapper,  who  relates  many  of  his  perils  among  the  wilds 
of  the  far  North  West. 


- :o: - 

OUR  LAST  BUFFALO, 


When  we,  the  Editor  of  the  “Home  Mirror”,  lived  on 
the  South  Platte  River,  over  hundred  miles  below 
Denver,  buffalo  were,  for  the  first  few  years,  very  plenty. 
Herds  containing  thousands  in  number  were  not  tin- 
frequent,  and  we  became  so  used  to  seeing  them  coming 
over  the  bluffs  and  to  the  river  to  water,  that  we 
often  let  them  return  unmolested;  however,  at  times, 
we  would  participate  in  the  hunt,  and  our  rifle  kept  us 
well  supplied  with  the  choicest  buffalo  beef. 

Being  hunted  almost  continually  by  persons  who  made 
it  a  business,  and  the  settling  up  of  the  valley,  soon  so 
thinned  them  out  that  we  rarely  saw  a  buffalo  any 
more.  The  last  one  we  killed  happened  in  this  wise: 

We,  in  company  with  our  son  and  another  young 
man,  were  traveling  up  the  valley,  when  near  old  Fort 


2l8 


SHOT  AND  POWDER. 


Morgan — an  abandoned  Government  Fott — we  noticed 
a  huge  buffalo  alone,  near  the  river,  some  distance  to 
our  right;  he  was  coming  leisurely  along  toward  the 
road.  Not  expecting  to  come  across  any  large  game, 
we  had  only  a  double-barreled  shot  gun  with  us.  I  let 
the  wagons  pass  on,  and  then  I  lay  down  behind  a  grassy 
knoll  to  await  the  coming  of  Mr.  Buffalo.  When  he 
neared  me  I  saw  he  had  been  wounded — the  wound  was 
in  the  fore  leg  near  the  hoof. — As  he  passed  near  me.  I 
discharged  both  barrels  at  him;  he  seemed  to  care  as 
little  for  such  sport  as  though  nothing  of  the  kind  was 
occurring.  The  young  man  had  headed  him  off,  and 
when  within  probably  fifty  or  sixty  yards  the  buffalo 
stopped  and  stood  looking  at  him.  The  young  man 
commenced  discharging  his  small  revolver  at  him  with 
the  result  of  simply  enraging  him;  there  he  stood,  shak¬ 
ing  his  head  and  pawing  the  ground.  I  warned  the 
young  man  to  take  care,  as  a  wounded  buffalo  was  not 
to  be  trusted  too  far.  My  son  had  ridden  around  to 
keep  him  from  running  to  the  bluffs;  in  the  meantime  I 
had  loaded  my  gun  with  extra  heavy  charges  of  powder 
and  buck  shot.  As  I  approached  the  full  grown  huge 
monster  he  seemed  to  be  preparing  for  a  battle;  how¬ 
ever  I  advanced  cautiously,  all  the  time  looking  for  a 
good  opportunity  to  retreat  if  necessary;  when  within 
about  thirty  steps  I  concluded  to  try  a  bead  on  him.  His 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  young  man  and  he  turned 
so  as  to  give  me  a  broad  side  shot.  He  seemed  to  be 
in  a  great  rage,  shaking  his  massive,  shaggy  head,  paw¬ 
ing  the  earth  and  bellowing  occasionally.  I  discharged 
both  barrels  of  my  gun  in  quick  succession,  aiming  just 


A  TERRIFIED  “TENDERFOOT”.  219 

back  of  the  shoulder.  The  animal  stood  for  a  few 
moments,  a  tremor  shook  his  whole  body,  and  then  he 
fell  and  soon  expired.  Some  of  the  buck  shot  had 
penetrated  his  heart.  We  took  his  “robe,”  which  was 
a  good  one,  and  the  young  man  took  the  hind  quarters 
on  with  him  to  Golden  City — his  home. 

That  was  the  last  king  beast  of  the  plains  that  we 
brought  down. 

- :o: - 

THE  HUNTERS  AND  OLD  GRIZZLY. 


The  past  Summer  some  prospectors  were  camped  one 
day  in  the  mountains  bordering  on  Middle  Park,  Colorado. 
It  was  customary  to  send  out  some  of  the  party  to  look 
for  deer  or  other  game  to  replenish  the  camp  larder. 
On  this  memorable  day,  a  youth,  not  long  from  the 
State  of  old  Missouri,  with  a  companion,  set  out  to  look 
for  game;  each  had  an  excellent  rifle.  While  wander¬ 
ing  along  above  the  timber  line  they  espied  an  old  grizzly 
bear,  quietly  coming  down  the  mountain  side.  Oh 
horror  of  horrors  !  how  that  young  ‘  ‘tenderfoot’s”  hair 
did  rise  !  He  set  out  on  a  run  or  rather  scramble,  and 
tumbled  down  over  the  rocks  and  fell,  or  rather  slid, 
over  a  precipice  or  steep  incline;  gathering  himself  up 
at  the  bottom  he  was  off  again.  His  companion  tried 
to  prevail  on  him  to  stop  when  they  had  reached  the 
timber,  and  they  would  climb  a  tree  and  give  old  grizzly 
a  fight — the  bear  was  not  over  a  few  hundred  yards  off, 
and  coming  on  toward  them — doubtless  enjoying  the 
fun — but  no,  the  citizen  from  Missouri  would  hear  to  no 


220 


A  MONSTER  BEAR. 


such  a  proposition;  but  on  he  ran,  regardless  of  the 
danger  to  broken  bones  or  skinned  shins,  and  came  into 
camp  almost  out  of  breath.  Of  course  he  was  laughed 
at,  and  in  a  few  days  set  out  for  his  home  beyond  the 
muddy  tide  of  the  big  river.  Whether  his  hair  turned 
white,  our  informant  did  not  say,  but  we  venture  to  say 
he  will  never  forget  his  Rocky  Mountain  adventure, — 
the  sight  of  that  old  grizzly  bear. 

At  another  point  in  one  of  the  mining  camps  a  grizzly 
bear  used  to  visitt  at  night,  one  of  the  cabins  while  the 
occupants  were  out  on  a  day  or  two’s  prospecting.'  He 
would  push  in  the  door  and  help  himself  to  the  stores  of 
the  cabin  and  scatter  things  around  promiscuously.  Four 
sturdy  miners  concluded  to  lay  for  him  one  night. 
Within  the  cabin  they  lay  on  their  guns  watching  and 
waiting;  they  did  not  watch  in  vain;  about  midnigt  they 
heard  the  heavy  tramp,  tramp  of  the  invading  foe,  closer 
and  closer, — he  came — one  can  imagine  the  thumping 
of  four  hearts  within  that  cabin.  The  door  was  left 
standing  open;  he  came  up  within  a  few  steps  of  the 
door  and  halted,  probably  deciding  in  his  mind  whether 
or  not  he  was  “monarch  of  all  he  surveyed.”  You  would 
guess  he  received  a  simultaneous  volley  from  the  cabin — 
but  no,  you  are  mistaken;  those  four  men  all  agree  in 
saying  the  dim  light  of  the  stars  revealed  to  them  a 
monster,  to  all  appearance  as  large  as  an  ox,  and  such 
eyes  glaring  in  that  monster  head.  There  was  no  finger 
there  that  night  with  nerve  enough  to  pull  a  bead  on 
such  a  magnified  monster.  “Why,”  said  the  men,  “had 
we  wounded  him,  he  might  have  rushed  in  that  open 
door  and  snapped  us  all  up  as  a  toad  does  a  fly.” 


“DANGER  IN  THE  BREEZE. 


221 


Well,  they  did  not  shoot.  The  bear,  “snuffing  danger 
in  the  breeze,”  walked  off  and  the  watchers,  no  doubt, 
were  glad  to  see  him  go.  They  virtually  said,  “Bruin, 
you  let  us  alone  and  we  will  let  you  alone.  ”  Probably  a 
sensible  compromise. 

- :o: - 

MARRIED  BY  LIGHTNING. 


His  name  was  Mr.  Wheeler,  C.  E. ;  hers  Miss  Lina 
S. ;  their  home  Washington,  Missouri.  They  loved  truly 
and  dearly.  Mr.  E.  was  a  poor,  hard-working  mechanic. 
The  idea  of  going  West  entered  his  honest  heart,  so  he 
set  out  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  promising  fields  of 
Colorado,  where  honest  toil  has  so  often  brought  a  rich 
reward.  To  leave  behind  his  dear  Lina  was  a  sad  trial, 
but  confiding  in  her  love  and  maidenly  integrity,  and  she 
in  his  earnest,  manly  devotion,  they  parted.  Her  love 
to  him  was  the  force  that  nerved  him  on  to  accomplish 
the  object  of  his  aim.  It  was  that  love  which  he  felt  for 
her  that  caused  him  to  shun  the  many  snares  and  pitfalls 
of  life.  He  had  an  object  in  view,  and  through  all  his 
trials  he  was  happy  in  the  thought  that  time  would  re¬ 
store  to  his  presence  the  one  in  whom  was  centered  his 
hopes  and  his  joys. 

She,  though  left  a  lonely,  loving  maiden,  to  await  the 
return  of  her  beloved  Wheeler,  was  full  of  hope,  and 
even  in  the  time  of  sadest  hours  she  felt  away  down  in 
the  depths  of  her  trusting  heart  he  would  be  true,  This 
to  her  was  a  secret  joy.  Thus  three  long  years — long 
indeed,  to  lovers — passed  away,  but  each  were  willing  to 


222  SPACE  NO  OBSTACLE. 

abide  the  time  when  the  wheel  of  fortune  should  decide 
the  blessed  consummation  of  their  hopes.  Mr.  E.  was 
now  ready  to  take  to  his  home  his  affianced  bride.  A 
thousand  miles  were  between  them;  his  business  was 
such  that  it  was  not  prudent  for  him  to  leave  it.  He 
wrote  for  her  to  come  in  company  with  a  friend  that  was 
going  to  Georgetown,  Colorado,  the  place  of  Mr.  E’s 
home.  Miss  S.  was,  as  any  one  might  suppose,  willing 
to  go  as  on  the  wings  of  love  to  meet  her  betrothed.  It 
is  said:  4 ‘True  love  never  runs  smooth.”  So  in  this  case. 
The  mother,  who  knew  there  was  ‘  ‘many  a  slip  ’twixt 
cup  and  lip,”  was  not  willing  she  should  go,  only  as  the 
wife  of  the  one  of  her  choice.  Love,  which  defies  locks 
and  bars,  surely  ought  to  laugh  at  distance.  But  how 
to  span  that  thousand  miles  of  space  that  separated  those 
two  willing  hearts,  was  the  question.  The  telegraph! 
Ah  yes!  the  telegraph!  Why  was  not  that  thought  of 
before?  Distance  has  been  annihilated — the  lovers  may 
stand  as  close  together  as  a  flash  of  lightning  and  talk 
together  in  that  wonderful  tick,  tick  language.  That  will 
do;  the  old  lady  is  satisfied.  Send  for  the  parson.  He 
comes.  A  few  friends  are  present.  No  cards.  No  visi¬ 
ble  bridegroom.  However,  the  minister  asks  the  ques¬ 
tion:  “Dost  thou  take  this  woman  to  be  thy  lawful 
wedded  wife?”  Through  a  thousand  miles  of  space  that 
question  speeds  its  way  towards  the  setting  sun,  and  up 
amidst  the  towering  cliffs  of  the  old  “Rockies”  it  was 
heard  by  the  man  who  willingly  answered  back,  “I  do.” 
Then  another  solemn  line  flashed  across  the  continent, 
“What  God  has  joined  together  let  no  man  put  asunder.” 
The  knot  was  tied — two  hearts  were  made  more  happy 


UNITED  AT  LAST.  223 

and  a  new  made  bride  set  out  to  meet  her  new  made 
husband.  The  long  distance  grew  shorter  and  shorter, 
until  at  last  husband  and  wife  met  in  each  others  arms. 
Married  by  lightning,  and  brought  into  each  others  pres¬ 
ence  by  steam!  Still  the  world  moves. 

- :o: - 

TRYING  TO  CAPTURE  WILD  HORSES. 


A  FIGHT  WITH  INDIANS. 


Being  acquainted  with  the  country  mentioned  in  the 
following  history  and  having  often  seen  large  herds  of 
wild  horses  roaming  on  those  plains  we  have  no  doubt 
as  to  the  truthfulness  of  the  occurrence. 

Meeting  Charlie  Baldwin,  of  Boulder  county,  yester¬ 
day,  we  were  reminded  of  a  little  unpleasantness  he 
once  had  with  the  Arapahoe  Indians,  in  1867.  It  occurred 
over  beyond  the  Bijou,  about  sixty-five  miles  from  Den¬ 
ver,  on  the  old  Smoky  Hill  road,  in  the  days  when  the 
Butterfield  coaches,  instead  of  the  steam  engine,  tra¬ 
versed  that  route.  The  passenger  of  to-day,  who  rides 
over  those  bleak  hills  in  the  Palace  cars  of  the  Kansas 
Pacific,  little  realizes  the  bloody  scenes  that  were  enacted 
here  in  the  days  of  1869. 

Some  ten  miles  beyond  the  Bijou,  and  between  what 
was  known  as  Walker’s  Station  and  the  Republican  river, 
was  a  numerous  band  of  wild  horses.  The  attempts  to 
capture  them  had  proved  futile  for  many  a  year.  They 
had  been  pursued  by  daring  riders,  mounted  upon  the 


224 


THE  WILD  HORSE  FAMILY. 


fleetest  horses  in  the  country,  but  to  no  avail.  Among 
these  horses  was  a  milk  white  stallion,  with  flowing 
mane  and  tail,  who  knew  no  gait  but  ‘'pace,”  so  said 
the  trappers  and  hunters,  yet  the  fleetest  runner  with 
rider  upon  his  back  could  not  overtake  him.  He  was 
the  Godolphin  of  the  prairie — 4 ‘King  of  the  winds.”  An 
English  sportsman  had  once  seen  him,  and  offered  a 
thousand  dollars  in  gold  for  him  if  he  be  captured  with¬ 
out  injury.  There  was  also  a  white  mare — a  beauty, 
apparently  the  leader  of  the  band — that  stood  sentinel 
with  her  head  always  high  in  the  air  when  humans  were 
in  sight,  and  with  one  blast  from  her  bugle-nose  two 
hundred  fleet  racers  would  make  the  earth  tremble 
beneath  their  tread. 

In  the  fall  of  1869  Mr.  Baldwin  attempted  to  execute 
a  plan  to  capture  the  entire  herd.  This  he  would  do 
by  turning  a  number  of  his  trusty  and  well-broken  horses 
and  mares  loose  among  these  wild  animals,  and  after 
leaving  them  a  sufficient  time  to  make  their  acquintance 
and  affiliate  with  them,  then  he  would  commence  to  ap¬ 
proach  day  by  day  until  he  and  his  riders  would  fail  to 
terrify  them.  This  done,  he  would  commence  to  drive 
a  little  each  day  until  he  would  have  them,  unawares, 
off  their  range  or  feeding  ground;  then  his  own  mares 
would  strike  for  civilization,  and  the  younger  members 
of  this  wild  horse  family,  if  not  the  older  ones,  would 
surely  follow,  when  he  would  land  them  safely  in  some 
enclosure  or  corral. 

His  arrangements  being  made  to  start,  Mr.  Baldwin 
took  with  him  four  men  and  a  month’s  supply  of  provi¬ 
sions.  His  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Loren  Clark — a  gen- 


BRAVE  MEN  AT  BAY. 


225 


tleman  well  known  in  these  parts  in  an  early  day — Mr. 
Moss,  as  guide,  Mr.  John  Grief,  and  a  Mr.  Cutter.  Mr. 
Moss’  and  Mr.  Cutter’s  given  names  are  now  forgotten. 
They  left  Denver  on  the  first  day  of  September,  and 
after  three  days’  travel,  arrived  upon  the  ground  where 
these  wild  animals  fed,  and  turned  loose  their  decoy 
horses. 

For  several  days  they  had  circled  about  in  sight  of  the 
band  of  horses,  and  at  night  returned  to  their  camp  at 
Walker’s  Station.  One  morning,  when  about  five  miles 
from  camp,  they  discovered  of  a  sudden  that  they  were 
surrounded  by  at  least  two  hundred  Indians.  They  were 
all  in  warpaint,  armed  with  guns  and  spears,  and  were 
yelling  like  demons.  Mr.  Baldwin  ordered  his  men  to 
dismount,  use  their  horses  for  breastworks,  and  fight. 
Clark  obeyed  the  command;  the  others  were  panic- 
stricken,  and  made  a  dash  to  escape.  Baldwin  called 
loudly  to  them  to  halt,  but  they  were  too  badly  scared 
to  hear  his  command.  As  they  stampeded  Moss  dropped 
his  gun,  and  Cutter’s  horse  became  unmanageable  and 
ran  among  the  Indians.  Grief  was  so  frightened  he  stood 
still  while  the  Indians  rode  up,  put  their  guns  against  his 
head  and  shot  him  down.  In  twenty  minutes  from  the 
first  attack  the  three  named  men  with  their  horses  lay 
dead  upon  the  plain.  After  scalping  them  and  swinging 
their  bloody  scalps  in  the  air,  the  infuriated  devils  turned 
their  whole  force  upon  Baldwin  and  Clark.  The  two 
had  mounted,  thinking  there  was  an  opportunity  for  an 
escape,  but  the  Indians  came  upon  them  so  rapidly, 
Baldwin  cried  to  Clark  “to  dismount  again  and  fight.” 
Before  he  could  do  so,  his  horse  fell  under  him,  and  he 


226 


“X  WILL  DIE  WITH  YOU. 


himself  received  three  wounds  almost  instantaneous. 
The  dead  body  of  the  animal  served  for  a  breastwork, 
and  for  a  time  the  wounded  man  fought  with  despera¬ 
tion,  until  from  the  loss  of  blood  he  had  become  too 
weak  to  longer  hold  out,  when  he  advised  Baldwin  to 
leave  him  to  his  fate  and  take  care  of  himself  as  best  he 
could.  Baldwin  replied,  ‘  ‘Never !  You  stood  by  me, 
and  I  will  die  with  you!”  Fortunately,  the  Indians  fell 
back  a  pace  for  a  moment,  when  Baldwin  helped  his 
wounded  comrade  upon  the  only  horse  they  had  left,  and 
commenced  a  retreat  towards  the  station,  which  was 
now  three  miles  away.  The  Indians  rallied  and  pursued, 
but  at  every  advance  he  would  drop  upon  his  knees,  take 
steady  aim,  and  an  Indian  or  his  horse  would  surely  bite 
the  dust.  At  last  they  arrived  in  camp,  and  the  enemy 
retreated  and  left  the  field. 

After  much  suffering  Clark  partially  recovered  from 
his  wounds,  and  is  now  a  resident  of  California,  while 
Cutter,  Moss  and  Grief  lay  buried  on  a  little  hillock  by 
the  roadside  on  the  old  Smoky  Hill  route. 

- :o: - 

THE  BELLE  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 


[The  following  narrative  is  so  characteristic  of  life  on  the  frontier 
a  few  years  ago,  that  we  give  it  place  here.] 

Weary  and  footsore  after  a  hard  day’s  tramp,  I 
knocked  at  the  door  of  a  cabin  in  an  opening  of  the 
canon. 

“Come  in,”  was  the  response,  in  a  full,  cheery,  femi¬ 
nine  voice. 


HAS  NO  OBJECTIONS. 


227 


“It  don’t  seem  Christian-like  to  refuse  you,”  said  the 
young  woman  who  had  answered  my  summons,  in  re¬ 
ply  to  my  request  for  a  night’s  shelter. 

She  spoke  in  a  kindly  voice,  but  in  a  hesitating  way, 
as  if  there  might  be  objections  which  it  would  be  indis¬ 
creet  to  mention. 

“Well,”  she  continued,  after  scanning  my  jaded 
appearance,  “I’ve  no  objections  if  father  hasn’t,” — in¬ 
clining  her  head  toward  the  farther  end  of  the  long 
room,  where  I  discovered  a  person  partly  hidden  by  the 
stove,  sitting  in  a  chair  reclining  against  the  wall.  His 
bow  I  cordially  returned;  but  was  surprised  at  his  re¬ 
peated  salutations  until  I  found  he  was  apparently  nod¬ 
ding  in  sleep.  The  girl  smiled  good-naturedly  and  re¬ 
marked,  “Never  mind,  it’s  all  right.” 

In  the  meantime,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  the 
remarkable  beauty  of  the  girl.  Her  face,  though 
browned  by  exposure,  harmonized  well  v.ith  her  large 
and  expressive  brown  eyes.  There  was  an  air  of  dignity 
in  her  appearance,  and  a  contour  of  face  and  form  de¬ 
noting  physical  courage  that  commanded  respect.  Yet 
her  demeanor  seemed  to  prove — what  a  good  judge  of 
human  nature  might  pronounce  her  to  be,  one  of  those 
who  are  made  happy  by  conferring  happiness  on  others. 

Though  her  language  occasionally  admitted  an  outre 
phase,  yet  it  indicated  good  sense.  She  might  have  been 
some  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age. 

My  cogitations,  however,  were  soon  interrupted  by 
another  arrival — that  of  a  young  man,  who  without  cere¬ 
mony  entered  the  room.  He  was,  perhaps,  twenty-five 
years  of  age  and  of  frank  and  prepossessing  appearance. 


228  “COME  TO  GRUB,  ALL  HANDS.” 

On  seeing  me,  his  countenance,  for  a  time,  betrayed 
great  surprise,  and  he  threw  an  inquiring  glance  at  the 
girl,  whose  face  seemed  flushed  with  embarrassment. 
Then,  as  if  resigning  himself  to  the  force  of  circumstances, 
and  actuated  by  a  really  generous  nature,  he  reached 
me  his  hand  with  “Here’s  to  a  better  acquaintance, 
stranger.  ” 

Then,  suddenly  stepping  to  the  girl,  he  encircled  her 
waiste  with  his  arm,  and  saying  in  a  subdued  voice, 
“This,  for  the  Belle  of  the  Canon,”  he  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  lips.  The  girl  blushed,  but  seemed  pleased, 
and  taking  a  seat  at  the  table  prepared  for  supper,  said 
hurriedly,  “Come  to  grub,  all  hands.” 

A  hearty  laugh  was  now  heard  from  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  and  the  father  coming  forward  gave  Dick  and 
Kate  (as  I  soon  learned  their  names  to  be)  a  quizzical 
look,  and  the  “stranger”  a  friendly  greeting.  From  the 
lively  actions  of  the  old  gentleman,  I  strongly  suspected 
that  in  regard  to  sleep  he  had  been  “playing  possum”, 
simply  out  of  a  waggish  disposition  to  observe  the 
“stranger’s”  reception. 

At  the  meal,  which  was  prolonged,  he  manifested  a 
fine,  genial  and  social  nature,  and  gave  a  graphic 
description  of  his  experience  of  border  life  and  encounters 
with  Indians.  Kate,  herself,  had  experienced  many  of 
the  vicissitudes  of  wild  life,  in  common  with  her  father. 

Soon  after  supper  the  old  gentleman  bade  us  a  pleas¬ 
ant  “good  night,”  and  ascended  a  step-ladder  to  a  loft 
above.  I  concluded  to  follow  his  example,  and  to  the 
manifest  pleasure  and  relief  of  the  young  couple,  I  ex¬ 
pressed  a  desire  to  retire. 


AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR. 


229 


The  room  assigned  me  was  a  small  affair,  being  simply 
a  slab  addition  to  the  main  log  building.  A  bunk 
attached  to  the  side  and  rear  end  of  the  walls  answered 
for  sleeping  accommodations.  The  lower  sash  of  the 
one  small  window  was  raised  a  few  inches;  a  paper  cur¬ 
tain  covered  the  window  down  to  this  opening. 

I  awoke  from  a  sound  sleep,  as  near  as  I  could  judge, 
about  midnight,  when  I  heard  a  low  murmuring,  appar¬ 
ently  of  several  voices  in  the  room.  Raising  my  head,  I 
heard  the  expression,  “We  must  make  short  work  of  it.” 
Then  followed  a  shuffling  of  feet  and  stealthy  treads  out 
of  the  outer  door.  For  the  moment  I  experienced  a  sort 
of  apprehension  of  evil.  Make  short  work  of  what? 
Had  the  window  been  raised  with  an  ulterior  object  in 
view?  No,  I  would  indulge  in  no  vague  fancies,  and  I 
again  composed  myself  for  sleep. 

I  was  aroused  from  a  partly  unconscious  state  by  a 
strange,  thumping  noise  in  close  proximity  to  my  win¬ 
dow.  It  was  now  broad  daylight. 

My  first  impression  was  that  a  forcible  entrance  was 
being  made  into  my  room.  Looking  forward,  to  my 
great  astonishment  I  saw  the  head  and  neck  of  a  very 
large  snake,  wriggling  and  twisting  over  the  window  sill, 
and  which  was  struggling  to  enter  the  room.  The  noise 
I  had  heard  was  caused  by  the  flapping  of  his  tail  against 
the  side  of  the  house  in  his  enterprising  efforts.  On  re¬ 
covering  from  my  surprise,  I  looked  around  for  some 
suitable  weapon  of  attack,  but  saw  nothing.  I  thought 
of  my  boots  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  near  the  window,  and 
was  just  reaching  over  to  seize  one,  when  I  saw  a  shapely 
female  hand  glance  by  the  window  opening.  The  head 


230 


“JOHN  BROWN'S  BODY.” 


of  the  snake  suddenly  disappeared;  the  sound  of  blows 
followed,  and  the  exclamation,  in  a  voice  that  I  recog¬ 
nized,  “There,  now  I  guess  you’ve  learned  manners,” 
satisfied  me  that  the  “varmint”  was  disposed  of. 

Not  long  after  thisgoccurred,  I  found  myself  outside 
the  cabin  viewing  its  locality.  The  outside  freedom  was 
inspiring,  the  fresh  morning  air  invigorating.  The  scat¬ 
tered  pines  on  the  slopes  seemed  like  sentinels  guarding 
the  canon  road.  The  wonder  was  how  many  of  them 
could  obtain  a  foothold  in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks.  Not 
far  off  a  stream,  scarce  a  rod  wide,  rushed  merrily  down 
the  declivity.  Soon  a  sturdy  youth  on  horseback  came 
jogging  down  the  road,  lustily  singing,  “John  Brown’s 
Body.”  A  short  distance  in  the  rear  of  the  cabin  was  a 
small  shanty — a  blacksmith  shop — in  which  the  girl’s 
father  was  replacing  a  shoe  on  the  foot  of  a  horse.  The 
owner,  a  hunter,  stood  near,  leaning  on  his  gun,  watch¬ 
ing  the  progress  of  the  job. 

“Do  we  find  much  game  here?”  said  the  old  gentle¬ 
man,  repeating  my  question,  after  the  hunter  had  gone. 

“To  find  game  of  consequence,”  he  continued,  “one 
must  go  farther  back;  the  presence  of  wild  beasts  in  this 
vicinity  is  of  rare  occurrence.  We,  however,  had  an 
encounter  with  one  when  we  first  came  here  to  Little 
Trout  Creek  Canon,  about  a  year  ago.  I’ll  tell  you  how  it 
was.  The  day  I  took  possession  of  the  cabin,  after  set¬ 
ting  things  to  rights,  I  cleaned  and  loaded  my  two  rifles. 
The  next  morning  I  took  one  of  them  and  went  out  to  rec¬ 
onnoitre.  I  had  walked  a  few  rods  westerly  from  the 
cabin,  when  I  saw  coming  around  that  pile  of  rocks  you 
see  there,  an  enormous  black  bear.  When  he  saw  me 


SHE  BROUGHT  HIM  TO  A  ST  P.  23 1 

he  seemed  to  be  about  as  much  astonished  as  myself. 
Had  I  retraced  my  steps  he  might  have  walked  off,  for 
bears  are  not  so  willing  to  attack  people,  when  unmo¬ 
lested,  as  some  are  apt  to  imagine.  As  I  walked  toward 
him,  to  be  more  sure  of  a  shot,  he  reared  on  his  hind 
legs.  I  fired,  but  without  fatal  effect,  and  the  brute, 
with  savage  growls,  came  bouncing  toward  me.  Of 
course  I’d  no  time  to  reload  there,  and  so  bolted  for  the 
door,  and  then  bolted  that.  ‘What’s  to  pay  now?’  cried 
Kate,  excitedly.  I  told  her.  She  seized  the  other  rifle. 
Before  I  could  reload  the  bear  had  nearly  reached  the 
door,  when  the  report  of  a  rifle  was  heard  outside, 
and  we  heard  him  tramping  off. 

“Kate  opened  the  door  and  rushed  out.  Near  the 
creek,  some  two  rods  off,  in  an  angular  direction,  stood 
a  young  man,  reloading  his  gun.  The  black  imp  was 
taking  a  bee-line  towards  him,  but  before  the  brute  had 
got  half  way  Kate  had  taken  deliberate  aim  and  fired. 
She  brought  him  to  a  dead  halt,  sir,  as  sure  as  you  slept 
on  his  skin  last  night.  The  ball  struck  just  where  in¬ 
tended,  at  the  back  of  the  head. 

“The  young  man  was  out  prospecting  near  by;  he 
heard  my  shot  and  came  forward  in  time  to  place  a  ball 
in  the  body  of  the  bear  and  save  us  from  a  predicament. 
As  you  already  may  have  guessed,  that  young  man  was 
Dick,  the  person  you  saw  with  us  last  evening.  ” 

“Well,”  said  I,  “there  must  be  a  spice  of  romance  in 
the  affair;  for,  judging  from  appearances,  Kate  and 
Dick  will  make  a  match.  A  happy  future  for  them.” 

“You’re  on  the  trail,”  was  the  reply;  “and,”  continued 
the  old  gentleman,  readjusting  his  “Lorillard,”  “as  you 


232  SHORT  WORK  To  BE  MADE  OF  !T. 

take  a  kindly  interest  in  the  young  couple,  I  may  say, 
that  as  to  marriage,  why,  they  have  just  got  to  the  foot¬ 
hills.  You  happened  to  call  on  their  wedding  eve.  It 
has  been  delayed  much  longer  than  has  suited  the  wishes 
of  Dick,  and  he  says  now,  when  the  ceremony  comes  off 
this  afternoon,  short  work  must  be  made  of  it.  But 
come,  Kate  is  calling  us  to  breakfast.  ” 

- :o: - 

A  DIZZY  AND  DANGEROUS  CLIMB. 


The  Grand  Canon  of  the  Arkansas  in  Colorado  has 
been  the  scene  of  many  narrow  escapes.  We  have 
traveled  through  it  upon  several  occasions,  and  always 
felt  as  though  we  were  in  the  immediate  presence  of  the 
great  Architect  of  nature.  The  dizzy  heights  are  awe 
inspiring.  The  following  account  of  one  of  those  thrill¬ 
ing  adventures  is  given  by  the  hero  himself  (Editor): 

Charles  May  and  his  brother  Robert,  in  the  spring  of 
1879,  offered  to  pass  60,000  railroad  ties  down  the  Ar¬ 
kansas  from  the  mountain  source.  He  says:  “Our  offer 
was  accepted  and  we  started  into  the  upper  entrance  of 
the  canon  with  a  large  skiff  provided  with  six  days’  pro¬ 
visions  and  two  hundred  feet  of  rope,  with  which,  by 
taking  a  running  turn  around  some  firmly  planted  ob¬ 
ject,  we  could  lower  our  boat  a  hundred  feet  a  time.  In 
this  way  at  the  end  of  three  days,  having  set  adrift  many 
hundred  ties,  we  reached  the  Royal  Gorge.  Here  we 
discovered  that  an  attempt  to  descend  the  first  water- 
wall  with  two  in  a  boat  was  certain  destruction,  and  to 
return  was  impossible.  Accordingly,  I  determined  to 


IN  A  TERRIBLE  CONDITION.  233 

lower  my  brother  down  the  fall  in  the  boat,  a  distance, 
of  two  hundreed  feet,  give  him  the  rope  and  let  him 
take  the  chance  of  the  canon  (life  seemed  more  certain 
in  that  direction),  while  I  would  risk  my  physical  ability 
to  climb  the  canon  wall,  which  was  about  two  thousand 
feet  high. 

At  ten  o’clock  in  the  morning  I  shook  hands  with  my 
brother,  lowered  him  in  the  boat  safely  to  the  foot  of  the 
fall,  gave  him  the  rope  and  saw  him  no  more.  Then 
throwing  aside  my  coat,  hat  and  boots,  and  stripping 
the  socks  from  my  feet,  I  commenced  my  climbing  way, 
often  reaching  the  height  of  one  or  two  hundred  feet, 
only  to  be  compelled  to  return  and  try  some  other  way. 
At  length,  about  4  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  I  reached  a 
height  upon  the  smooth  canon  wall  of  about  a  thousand 
feet.  Here  my  further  progress  was  arrested  by  a 
shelving  ledge  of  rock  that  jutted  over  from  the  canon 
side,  a  foot  or  more.  To  advance  was  without  hope,  to 
return  certain  death.  Reaching  upward  and  outward  I 
grasped  the  rim  of  the  ledge  with  one  hand  and  then 
with  the  other.  My  feet  slipped  from  the  smooth  side 
of  the  canon,  and  my  body  hung  suspended  in  the  air 
a  thousand  feet  above  the  roaring  waters  of  the  Arkan¬ 
sas. 

At  that  moment  I  looked  downward  to  measure  the 
distance  I  would  have  to  fall  when  the  strength  of 
my  arms  gave  out.  A  stinging  sensation  crept  through 
my  hair  as  my  eye  caught  the  strung  root  of  a  cedar 
bush  that  projected  out  over  the  ledge,  a  little  beyond 
my  reach.  My  grasp  upon  the  rim  of  the  ledge  was 
fast  yielding  to  the  weight  of  my  person.  Then  I  de- 


234  MY  hair  had  turned  white. 

termined  to  make  my  best  effort  to  raise  my  body  and 
throw  it  sideways  to  the  root  so  as  to  bring  it  within  my 
grasp.  At  the  moment  of  commencing  the  effort  I  saw 
my  mother’s  face  as  she  leaned  out  over  the  ledge, 
reached  down  her  hand  and  caught  me  by  the  hair. 
Stranger,  my  mother  died  while  young,  when  I  and  my 
brother  were  small  boys,  but  I  remember  her  face.  I 
was  successful  in  making  the  side  leap,  when  I  drew 
myself  upon  the  ledge  and  rested  for  a  time.  From 
here  upwards  my  climbing,  though  laborious,  was  less 
dangerous.  I  reached  the  top  of  the  canon  just  as  the 
sun  was  sinking  down  behind  the  snowy  range,  and  has¬ 
tened  to  our  camp  at  the  mouth  of  the  canon,  where  I 
found  my  brother  all  safe.  ‘Charley,’  said  he,  ‘have 
you  had  your  head  in  a  flour  sack!’  It  was  then  I  dis¬ 
covered  that  my  hair  was  as  white  as  you  see  it  is 
now.” 

- :o: - 

A  STRANGE  PEOPLE. 


THE  PEN  I  TENT  I ES. 


This  is  the  name  of  a  secret  society  that  exists  among 
the  Spanish  or  Mexican  Roman  Catholics,  of  which  there 
are  considerable  numbers  in  the  southern  part  of  Colo¬ 
rado  and  New  Mexico.  It  is  said  the  priests  do  not 
approve  of  their  doings,  but  they  are  so  zealous  and 
superstitious  in  their  belief  that  nothing  will  deter  them 
from  their  faith.  Even  those  who  know  for  a  year  pre¬ 
vious  they  are  to  be  crucified,  make  no  attempt  to  es¬ 
cape. 


TORTURING  THEMSELVES.  235 

The  following  account,  as  we  penned  it  down  from  a 
friend  who  has  been  for  some  years  in  that  locality  of 
country  and  an  eye  witness  of  their  strange  proceedings, 
may  be  relied  upon  as  strictly  true:  The  week  in  which 
Good  Friday  comes  is  called  by  the  Penitenties,  Saint’s 
week.  On  Sunday  they  prepare  an  ordinary  meal  or 
feast,  to  be  eaten  in  their  church  house  the  following 
Friday.  They  eat  nothing  from  Monday  morning  until 
this  feast  on  Friday.  Previous  to  the  commencement  of 
Saint’s  week  they  all  provide  themselves  with  plaited 
thongs  from  four  to  five  inches  wide,  and  from  two  and 
a  half  to  three  feet  long,  made  by  plaiting  together  the 
tough,  broad  leaves  of  the  “soap  weed”  which  has  long, 
sharp  needles  projecting  from  the  points;  these  they 
leave  on,  which  makes  a  thong,  thickly  studded  with 
piercing  needles. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  first  day  of  their  week  of 
suffering,  they  meet  in  their  house  of  worship  (men  only 
belong  to  the  order)  and  divest  themselves  of  all  clothing, 
except  a  pair  of  drawers  and  a  black  covering  over  their 
faces  like  a  veil.  They  commence  services  by  singing, 
then,  when  one  thinks  of  some  sin  he  has  committed  he 
jumps  up  and  commences  lashing  himself  with  his  thong, 
striking  across  his  shouiders,  and  as  he  lashes  he  goes 
out;  others  soon  follow,  until  all  are  out  and  all  lashing 
themselves  so  severely  that  the  blood  often  runs  in 
streams  down  their  backs;  they  continue  the  lashing 
from  ten  to  twenty  minutes  at  a  time;  then  fall  down  on 
their  knees  for  about  five  minutes,  then  go  into  the 
house  again,  and  go  to  singing.  Soon  they  commence 
the  lashing  again  as  before,  some  one  having  commenced 


A  HORRIBLE  DEATH. 


236 

as  “moved  by  the  spirit”  or  having  remembered  a  sin. 
These  intervals  of  lashing,  singing,  praying,  etc.,  are 
continued  day  and  night,  from  Monday  morning  until 
Friday  at  noon  at  which  time  they  eat  their  feast,  having 
fasted  from  Monday  morning  up  to  this  time.  They  had 
previously  prepared  a  large  cross  of  heavy  timbers,  being 
about  10  feet  in  height  and  weighing  125  to  150  pounds. 
One  of  their  number  had  been  chosen  the  year  before  to 
be  crucified.  He  lashes  himself  severely  and  when  too 
weak  from  loss  of  blood,  etc. ,  to  continue  it  himself  the 
others  lash  him  until  he  is  apparently  dead.  Then  he  is 
laid  on  the  cross,  his  hands  and  feet  tied  tightly  to  the 
beams  of  the  cross,  then  he  is  raised  up  and  the  cross 
planted  in  the  ground.  Then  the  lashing  of  themselves 
commences  again  and  each  one  in  rotation  kisses  the 
cross.  Then  they  march  around  the  cross,  lashing  and 
singing  all  the  time  for  nearly  an  hour;  then  the  cross  is 
loosed  from  the  ground  and  no  matter  whether  the  man 
on  the  cross  is  alive  or  dead  the  cross  is  let  fall  forward 
on  top  of  the  man  lashed  to  it.  This  is  done  three  times, 
when  the  man  is  taken  loose  and  his  body  is  carried  in 
the  house  and  kept  until  Saturday  afternoon  when  it  is 
buried  and  thus  the  ceremonies  of  the  week  close.  One 
man  is  crucified  in  each  congregation  or  district  where 
there  are  such  societies;  usually  there  is  one  in  each  val¬ 
ley  or  separate  settlement.  They  do  not  object  to  per¬ 
sons  being  spectators  to  their  doings  outside,  but  they 
allow  none  but  their  own  members  inside  the  house. 
They  provide  a  new  cross  every  year  so  that  great  piles 
of  crosses  may  be  seen  at  their  churches. 


:o: 


LIFE  ON  A  SHEEP  RANCH. 


EXPERIENCES,  INCIDENTS,  AND  DETAILS  OF  ONE  DAY  IN 
A  SHEPHERD’S  LIFE  ON  THE  WESTERN  PLAINS. 

I  am  restless.  I  roll  in  my  bed.  A  lark  sings.  I 
awaken,  turn  and  look  out  of  my  east  window.  It  is  dawn. 
I  yawn,  stretch,  and  dislike  to  arise.  But  jumping  up 
quickly,  I  dip  some  cold  water  from  the  bucket  into  my 
tin  wash  basin,  bury  my  face  and  open  my  eyes  beneath 
its  refreshing  surface,  and  wiping  on  a  coarse  honey¬ 
comb  towel,  I  am  fairly  awake  and  all  of  a  glow.  My 
toilet  completed,  I  walk  through  the  sheep,  who  are 
nearly  all  lying  down,  and  who  rise  and  scatter  at  my 
approach,  to  the  stable,  where  I  suckle  my  two  kid  an¬ 
telopes  to  a  ewe  who  has  lost  her  lamb.  I  then  open 
the  corral  gates,  call  “Romeo,”  and  start  driving  the 
sheep  out.  How  they  stand  and  strain  their  necks,  and 
timidly  advance  step  by  step.  Finally  a  bravo  one 
pushes  on  from  behind,  gives  a  jump  and  is  through 
the  gate.  Another  and  another  follow,  and  then  the 
gate  is  crammed  with  a  surging  mass  of  sheep  and 
lambs.  Some  time  elapses — the  gate  is  narrow.  Now 
a  few  more  stragglers — an  old  sheep — lambs — one  little 
lamb — and  all  are  through.  How  they  scatter  and  run 
for  feed.  They  look  more  like  3,000  head  of  sheep 
and  lambs  than  when  in  the  narrow  confines  of  the  cor¬ 
ral. 

The  Eastern  horizon  is  fairly  ablaze.  Now  see  the 
sun!  No!  you  cannot  look!  The  majesty  of  his  bril¬ 
liancy  overcomes  you,  like  the  Veiled  Prophet  of  Khor- 
Qssan.  Up  from  his  dark-green  couch  on  the  far  grassy 

(23  7) 


238  “VAMOSE  PER  EL  RANCHO”. 

plains,  his  highness  rises.  Visible  for  a  few  minutes 
only,  he  retires  behind  a  long  low-lying  cloud,  to  appear 
again  on  the  upper  edge  in  greater  brightness.  How 
swiftly  the  King  of  Day  mounts  the  sky  on  a  ladder  of 
hours!  The  zenith  reached — how  slowly  he  passes  down 
— as  if  loth  to  descend.  When  near  his  resting  place 
behind  the  mountains,  how  like  an  archangel  with  magic 
touch  he  changes  the  appearance  of  sky  and  hills,  and 
opens  the  gates  of  heaven  on  the  past,  where  memory 
weaves  a  tissue  of  thoughts  from  a  warp  and  woof  of 
the  happy  and  good,  leaving  out  the  unpleasant  details 
of  the  present. 

The  sheep  spread  out  like  a  fan,  and  are  running  to 
see  which  shall  first  find  the  best  feed.  "Romeo,” 
obedient  to  his  word,  sign  or  gesture  is  ever  on  the  alert, 
and  ready  to  obey,  and  at  the  handle  of  this  fan  I  feel 
every  confidence  that  I  have  the  sheep  fully  in  hand.  I 
imagine  how  a  general  must  feel,  commanding  a  brigade 
of  sheep.  Here  over  the  hills  comes  Francisco,  the 
Mexican  herder,  to  whom  I  turned  over  my  command 
and  "vamose  per  el  rancho.”  There  I  eat  my  breakfast 
of  mutton  chops,  potatoes,  "herder’s  delight”  (a  name 
given  to  gravy  made  of  grease,  flour  and  water),  biscuits, 
coffee,  sugar  and  stewed  dried  apples.  This  is  an  old 
"cow  camp, ’’and  the  spring  house  is  fitted  up  as  a  dairy. 
We  live  Canada  style — i.  e. ,  "each  man  cleans  his  own^ 
plate.”  I  sweep  and  sprinkle  the  floor,  put  down  my 
blanket  curtains,  and  my  cabin  is  deliciously  cool.  If  I 
am  out  on  the  hot  plains,  I  take  a  refreshing  cool  water 
bath  in  our  tub,  made  out  of  a  half  pork  barrel.  I 
spend  the  remainder  of  the  long  hot  mornings  reading, 


WANTS  ITS  “M-A-A. 


239 


writing  and  sleeping.  About  noon  I  get  a  bite  to 
eat,  and  with  ‘‘Romeo”  and  “Middlemarch”  go  out  to 
herd.  I  send  the  Greaser  into  his  “chuck.”  I  sit  down, 
back  to  the  sun,  and  read.  The  sheep  are  all  bunched 
up  with  their  heads  under  one  another,  panting  with  the 
heat.  An  hour  or  so  passes,  Francisco  returns  “squatav- 
ous”  and  goes  on  with  the  braiding  of  a  watch  chain  he 
is  making  for  me  out  of  horse-hair.  The  afternoon 
posses  away.  Friendly  shadows  fleck  the  sward.  Bless 
the  tiny  cloudlets!  The  sheep  scatter  and  now  are  feed¬ 
ing  nicely.  Sol  is  making  preparations  to  retire.  We  crise 
and  let  the  sheep  feed  quietly  towards  camp.  Those  in 
advance  smell  water  and  “step  out.”  Now  look  at  the 
herd;  three  hundred  yards  wide  and  a  mile  long.  Romeo 
and  Rover,  at  their  master’s  bidding,  keep  the  herd 
straight,  and  closing  up,  drive  the  remainder  into  the 
corral,  where  water  runs  in  ample  supply.  Now  hear 
pandemonium  noises!  Each  individual  mother  has  for¬ 
gotten  her  lamb  in  her  thirsty  desire  to  be  first  in  at  the 
water;  and  now,  in  mournful  piteousness,  bleats  for  her 
all,  while  it  (poor  little  lamb)  wants  its  “m-a-a”  and  in 
a  right  healthy  young  voice  so  signifies  to  the  assembled 
crowd  of  ewes  and  lambs,  each  and  every  one  of  which 
is  vocalizing  to  a  like  purpose.  Here  is  a  case  where  a 
lusty  lamb  recognizes  his  mother,  and  rushing  to  her 
side,  drops  on  his  knees  and  nearly  butts  her  off  her 
feet  in  his  greed  for  mother  milk.  Here  again,  a  kind, 
motherly  ewe,  nearly  distracted  about  her  own,  has  six 
or  eight  orphans  (or  milk  pirates)  tugging  at  her  udder. 
Oh!  you  rascals,  your  mother  wouldn’t  own  you,  so  you 
steal  milk  for  a  living. 


240  “OH,  HAPPY  hour!” 

Francisco  and  I  catch  a  ewe  with  a  full  udder  of  milk 
to  suckle  my  kid  antelopes.  Francisco  builds  a  fire. 
Who  is  this?  O,  happy  hour.  It  is  my  friend  with  my 
mail.  Sweet  letters,  such  solace  to  my  hungry  heart, 
what  would  I  do  without  you?  My  friend’s  jaded  horse 
is  cared  for.  I  soon  have  what  I  pronouned  a  “staving 
supper.”  A  cigarette  rolled  and  lit,  I  devour  my  letters. 
My  friend  and  I  talk  and  visit .  The  moon  rises.  We 
go  out  and  in  her  bright  light  we  sing — ballads — we  hear 
some  fair  one  sing  in  a  city  drawing  room — plantation 
melodies,  from  old  Mississippi — operatic  airs  and  West¬ 
ern  songs.  The  Mexican  adds  his  wild,  weird  tunes, 
with  an  odd  tremolo  in  his  voice,  in  the  liquid  softness 
of  the  Spanish  language.  Then  in  the  moonlight,  this 
child  of  nature  dances  a  fandango,  dances  well,  too,  in 
his  moccasins.  He  describes  by  graceful  motion  in  an 
epic  poem,  deeds  of  valor,  chivalry  and  passion.  Is 
there  not  analogy  between  these  half  barbarous  dances 
and  the  polite  and  fashionable  ballot  of  the  day?  And, 
in  the  breast  of  this  illiterate  sheep  herder,  do  not 
traces  of  ooetry  and  romance  yet  linger?  Yes — who 
knows. 

- :o: - 

AN  AUTHOR  IN  CLOSE  QUARTERS. 


Early  in  the  year  of  1859  Charles  Collins  wrote  a 
book  about  the  then  unknown  country  of  Colorado  and 
Pike’s  Peak,  in  which  he  gave  a  glowing  account  of  the 
whole  region.  This  book  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with 
stimulating  emigration.  After  the  rush  to  Pike’s  Peak 
had  been  going  on  for  some  time  Collins,  with  the  late 


i  i  COLLINS,  GIT! 


24I 


A.  D.  Richardson,  set  out  for  that  place.  Collins  kept 
distributing  this  book  all  along  the  route  and  collecting 
his  subscriptions  at  the  ranches  previously  canvassed; 
until  after  some  days  of  travel  both  began  to  be  aware 
of  the  fact  that  a  great  many  of  the  emigrants,  who  had 
gone  out  weeks  before,  were  returning.  These  wagons 
no  more  bore  the  bold  inscription  “Pike’s  Peak  or  Bust,” 
but  it  was  transformed  to  this  effect,  “Pike’s  Peak 
Busted.”  The  two  travelers,  unaware  of  the  depth  of 
chagrin  and  significance  behind,  thought  little  of  it  until 
they  had  traveled  about  one-half  of  the  route,  three 
hundred  miles  from  St.  Joseph.  Here  was  a  famous 
stopping  place  known  as  Jack  Morrow’s  ranch,  a  place 
where  Collins  and  Richardson  had  determined  to  put  up 
that  night.  Collins,  who  was  well  acquainted  with 
Morrow,  got  some  distance  ahead  of  Richardson,  in 
whose  wagon  besides  himself  and  the  driver  were  a 
number  of  emigrants,  also  bent  on  seeing  the  new 
country. 

Collins,  as  he  drove  up  to  Morrow’s  ranch,  was  con¬ 
siderably  surprised  at  the  sight.  The  place  was  every¬ 
where  swarming  with  miners  and  emigrants,  all  excited 
and  savage  about  something  or  another.  There  was 
loud  talking  everywhere,  and  loud  threats  about  some¬ 
body  who  in  every  breath  came  in  for  the  most  violent 
and  bitter  execration.  Collins  was  about  to  toss  one  of 
his  books  to  Morrow,  who  came  forward  hastily  when  he 
saw  him,  and  getting  up  close_  to  him  he  said  in  a  voice 
husky  with  suppressed  excitement: 

“Collins,  git.” 

“What  do  you  mean?”  said  Collins  excited. 


242  BECOMING  DISGUSTED. 

“Git  out  of  here,  quick,”  said  the  excited  ranchman, 
as  he  waived  his  hand  and  disappeared. 

Collins,  now  thoroughly  aroused,  thrust  his  book  back 
under  his  seat  and  bade  his  driver  to  get  out  and  mingle 
with  the  crowd  and  find  what  was  the  matter.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  driver  returned  with  a  face  white  as  a  ghost, 
and  told  Collins  that  the  miners  were  offering  a  reward  of 
$2,000  for  the  bodies  of  Collins  and  Richardson,  dead  or 
alive.  Having  heard  that  they  would  be  along  that  way 
they  had  come  to  stop  at  Morrow’s  ranch  and  secured  a 
couple  of  ropes,  intending  to  hang  them. 

Collins  quietly  slid  down  from  his  buggy  and  sauntered 
out  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd.  Here  he  heard  himself 
and  Richardson  denounced  in  the  most  unsparing  man¬ 
ner.  Seeing  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  he  instructed  his 
driver  to  strike  another  route,  while  he  himself  circled 
around  the  crowd  until  he  reached  some  tall  grass,  when 
he  took  to  his  heels.  After  running  for  more  than  a  mile 
he  stopped.  Like  a  flash  the  question  crossed  his  mind, 
where  was  Richardson?  He  turned  around  and  struck 
across  diagonally  for  the  old  route,  in  reaching  which, 
some  distance  from  Morrow’s  ranch  he  presently  met 
Richardson’s  team  moving  along  leisurley.  It  required 
but  an  instant  for  Collins  to  inform  him  of  the  true  state 
of  affairs,  hearing  which  he  was  not  less  frightened  than 
Collins  himself.  The  result  was  that  they  struck  off  on 
a  new  route  and  finally  reached  Denver  without  further 
adventure.  Denver  was  then  a  settlement  of  about  one 
thousand  inhabitants,  all  living  in  tents.  Soon  after 
their  arrival  there  the  two  pre-empted  120  acres  of  land 
each.  Becoming  disgusted  afterward,  they  threw  up 


“AND  FOOLS  WE  WERE. 


243 


the  land  again.  To  this  day  Collins  brings  his  fist  down 
on  his  knee  and  says  with  an  emphatic  air  of  comic 
regret:  “And  fools  that  we  were,  this  land  is  now  the 
heart  of  the  town  and  sold  in  less  than  ten  years  after¬ 
ward  for  a  thousand  dollars  an  acre.” 

- :o. - 

IN  THE  SADDLE. 


While  a  resident  of  Colorado  we  were  engaged  more 
or  less  in  Mission  work.  Many  a  long  ride  had  we,  car¬ 
rying  the  bread  of  life  to  hungry  souls  in  the  Mountain 
district  or  on  the  wide  extended  plains.  The  scenery 
often  was  of  such  a  nature  as  to  inspire  the  soul  with 
reverence  for  the  great  Creator  of  all  things. 

The  following  is  a  short  sketch  of  those  pleasant  rides: 

The  sun  had  just  begun  to  light  up,  with  a  halo  of 
glory,  the  snowy  top  of  Long’s  Peak  as  we  rode  out  from 
our  home  on  Sabbath  morning,  June  20.  All  nature 
seemed  to  be  rendering  praise  to  the  Almighty  Author. 
A  ride  of  ten  miles  brought  us  to  the  entrance  of  Left 
Hand  canon,  where  our  road  led  us  across  the  roaring, 
rushing  stream  of  the  same  name.  Towering  cliffs 
loomed  up  around  us;  the  “balm  of  a  thousand  flowers” 
perfumed  the  fresh  morning  air;  acres  of  wild  roses  in 
full  bloom  lined  our  pathway  on  either  side;  and  to  tell 
of  all  the  varieties  of  flowers  that  crowned  the  Floral 
Queen  in  such  majestic  beauty  that  morning  a  volume 
might  be  written.  Onward  and  upward  our  road  led  us, 
until  at  last  we  arrived  upon  the  summit  of  a  mountain 
ridge  a  thousand  or  more  feet  above  the  plain  below, 


244  HOMEWARD  JOURNEY  PLEASANT. 

which  was  spread  beneath  our  gaze  like  a  map.  The 
winding  course  of  the  streams,  even  the  distant  Platte, 
that  make  their  way  out  from  the  mountains,  were 
plainly  discernable,  as  were  also  the  shining  waters  of 
many  of  the  huge  irrigating  canals.  The  numerous 
lakes  looked  like  so  many  mirrors  glistening  in  the  sun. 
The  green  fields  of  growing  grain  and  grassy  meadows 
in  contrast  with  the  brown,  parched,  uncultivated  lands 
presented  a  beautiful  picture  to  the  lover  of  nature.  It 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  a  hundred  miles  or  more  of  the 
plains,  looking  east,  north  or  southward,  lay  in  view  to 
the  unaided  eye.  Denver  City,  forty  miles  away,  with 
a  number  of  lesser  towns,  were  plainly  visible;  looking 
west,  the  snowy  range  in  the  background  added  grandeur 
to  the  wonderful  and  imposing  view  that  lay  around  us. 
In  a  cozy  nook  below  us  was  plainly  in  sight  the  mining 
town  of  Sunshine,  the  place  of  our  destination.  Going 
down  an  incline  of  probably  forty-five  degrees,  we  soon 
arrived  in  the  town,  where  we  held  religious  services 
twice  during  the  day.  Next  morning  we  visited  some  of 
the  most  prominent  mines  where  the  precious  gold  is 
taken  out  to  gladden  many  a  heart.  Our  sixteen  mile 
journey  homeward  was  pleasant. 

- :o: - 

AN  INDIAN’S  SPEECH. 


I  am  a  Kiowa  Indian  boy,  twenty-three  years  old.  My 
home  is  in  the  Indian  Territory.  My  people  are  not 
much  civilized.  They  live  in  houses  made  of  skins  of 
buffaloes.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  did  not  see  many  white 
people.  The  Kiowas  moved  camp  often  to  keep  near 


“I  DID  NOT  GET  HURT. 


245 


the  buffalo,  and  we  lived  on  buffalo  meat  and  berries  all 
the  time.  We  had  no  bread,  no  coffee  or  sugar.  We 
boys  talked  all  the  time  about  hunting  buffalo,  going  to 
fight  the  Utes,  Navajoes,  or  Pawnees;  and  most  about 
fighting  the  white  people,  or  stealing  horses.  The  old 
Kiowas  talked  all  the  time  to  us  about  fight  or  hunt  the 
buffalo.  Sometimes  the  men  would  go  off  and  bring 
back  scalps  of  white  men  and  women,  or  Indian  men  and 
women,  and  then  we  had  a  big  dance.  This  was  all  I 
heard,  and  all  I  saw,  and  I  thought  it  was  good,  so  I  will 
be  a  big  fighter,  and  a  good  hunter  too,  and  may  be  I 
get  to  be  a  big  chief. 

When  I  was  about  fifteen  years  old,  I  killed  my  first 
buffalo,  with  a  bow  and  arrow.  I  had  no  gun.  Then  I 
was  called  a  man,  because  I  could  kill  buffalo.  Then  I 
went  with  the  young  men  to  fight  the  Utes  and  Nava¬ 
joes,  and  steal  their  horses.  I  was  in  three  fights  with 
the  Utes,  and  two  with  the  Navajoes.  We  did  not  get 
many  horses;  too  much  fight. 

I  went  to  Texas  about  ten  times  with  young  Kiowas 
and  Comanches,  to  fight  the  whites  and  get  their  horses. 
We  fought  the  soldiers,  and  a  good  many  Indian  men 
got  killed.  But  I  did  not  get  hurt,  only  sometimes  my 
horse  got  killed.  All  this  time  I  wore  a  blanket,  or  a 
buffalo  robe,  and  liked  to  have  my  hair  long,  and  paint 
my  face,  and  wear  big  rings  in  my  ears.  I  did  not  know 
anything  about  God,  or  churches,  or  schools,  or  how  to 
make  things  grow  from  the  ground  to  live  on. 

Four  years  ago  there  was  a  big  war.  The  Kiowas  and 
Comanches  and  Cheyennes  fought  the  soldiers  all  winter. 
The  buffalo  were  nearly  all  gone,  and  the  Indians  got 


246  A  SENSIBLE  RESOLUTION. 

very  hungry.  The  horses  worked  hard,  and  it  was  so 
cold,  the  grass  was  poor,  so  they  got  very  weak,  and  we 
lost  many  in  fights  with  the  soldiers.  Then  the  soldiers 
came  to  our  camps,  and  we  had  to  run  away  and  leave 
our  lodges.  Then  the  soldiers  burned  them.  We  all 
got  very  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  women  and 
children  cried,  so  the  chief  said:  “We  will  go  into  Fort 
Sill  and  give  up.” 

We  met  Capt.  Pratt  in  the  Wichita  mountains.  He 
had  some  Indian  soldiers  and  two  wagons  loaded  with 
bread,  sugar  and  coffee.  He  gave  us  plenty,  and  we 
gave  him  all  our  guns,  pistols,  bows  and  arrows,  shields 
and  spears.  That  night  we  had  a  big  dance  because  we 
had  plenty  to  eat.  Ia  three  days  more  we  came  to  Fort 
Sill,  and  all  horses  were  taken  away,  and  the  men  put 
into  the  guard-house.  In  two  months,  some  of  the  men 
had  irons  put  on  their  ankles,  and  were  sent  to  Florida. 
The  other  men  were  turned  loose.  I  went  to  Florida. 

There  I  first  began  to  learn  something  about  the  good 
way,  and  I  find  Indian’s  way  very  bad;  so  I  thought  I  will 
never  live  Indian’s  way  any  more.  Capt.  Pratt  was  a 
good  friend.  He  taught  us  many  things  and  showed  us 
the  white  man’s  road.  White  ladies  came  to  the  Fort, 
and  helped  us  to  read  and  write.  We  stayed  in  Florida 
three  years  and  then  some  of  the  Indians  went  back 
home,  but  the  young  men  wanted  to  stay  East,  and  get 
a  good  education.  We  came  to  Hampton.  We  have 
been  here  a  year.  We  study  hard,  and  are  learning  to 
work,  and  be  men.  We  like  it. 

I  see  that  every  white  boy  and  girl,  and  every  black 
boy  and  girl  can  go  to  school,  and  that  is  the  way  they 


INDIANS  HAVE  NO  CHANCE. 


247 


get  ahead  of  the  Indians.  Indians  have  no  chance.  You 
give  all  Indian  boys  and  girls  schools,  and  teachers  like 
you  have,  and  Indians  will  do  better. 

- :o: - - 

AN  INDIAN  LEGEND. 


There  was  once  a  beautiful  damsel  upon  whom  one  of 
the  good  genii  wished  to  bestow  a  blessing.  He  led  her 
to  the  edge  of  a  large  field  of  corn,  where  he  said  to 
her:  “Daughter  in  the  field  before  us  the  ears  of  corn, 
in  the  hands  of  those  who  pluck  them  in  faith,  shall 
have  talismanic  virtue,  and  the  virtue  shall  be  in  propor¬ 
tion  to  the  size  and  beauty  of  the  ear  gathered .  Thou 
shalt  pass  through  the  field  once  and  pluck  one  ear.  It 
must  be  taken  as  thou  goest  forward,  and  thou  shalt  not 
stop  in  thy  path,  nor  shalt  thou  retrace  a  single  step  in 
quest  of  thine  object.  Select  an  ear  full  and  fair,  and 
according  to  its  size  and  beauty  shall  be  its  value  to  thee 
as  a  talisman.  ”  The  maiden  thanked  the  good  genius,  and 
then  set  forward  upon  her  quest.  As  she  advanced  she 
saw  many  ears  of  corn,  large,  ripe  and  beautiful,  such  as 
calm  judgment  might  have  told  her  would  possess  virtue 
enough;  but  in  her  eagerness  to  grasp  the  very  best,  she 
left  these  fair  ears  behind,  hoping  to  find  one  still  fairer. 
At  length,  as  the  day  was  closing,  she  reached  a  part 
of  the  field  where  the  stalks  were  shorter  and  thiner, 
and  the  ears  very  thin  and  shriveled.  She  now 
regretted  not  having  taken  one  of  the  grand  ears  she 
had  left  behind,  and  disdained  to  pick  from  the  poor 


248  GOLDEN  OPPORTUNITIES  LOST. 

show  around  her,  for  here  she  found  not  an  ear  that 
bore  perfect  grain.  She  went  on,  but,  alas!  only  to 
find  the  stalks  more  feeble  and  blighted,  until  at  the 
end,  as  night  was  coming  on,  she  found  herself  at  the 
end  of  the  field,  without  having  plucked  an  ear  of  any 
kind.  No  need  that  the  genius  should  rebuke  her  for 
her  folly.  She  saw  it  clearly  when  too  late;  and  how 
many  in  all  climes,  and  in  all  ages,  in  the  evening 
of  life,  call  sadly  and  regretfully  to  mind  the  thous¬ 
ands  of  golden  opportunities  forever  lost  because  they 
were  not  plucked  in  their  season. 


THE  END. 


INDIAN  HERBS! 


The  Author  of  this  book,  while  a  resident  of  the  frontier,  often 
come  in  contact  with  the  Red  Men  of  forest  and  plain,  also  with  the 
Spaniards,  old  Trappers  and  Hunters  of  the  far  West.  From  them  he 
gathered  the  secrets  of  some  of  their  leading  "  cure  alls.”  Trying  them 
himself  and  using  them  in  his  family,  he  soon  learned  of  the  remark¬ 
able  virtues  they  contained.  One  herb  in  particular,  found  in  the 
Rocky  mountain  regions,  proved  so  very  efficacious  in  the  many  ills 
to  which  flesh  is  heir  to,  that  he  introduced  it  to  the  world  at  large. 
Many  tons  of  it  has  been  sold  and  distributed  over  the  United  States 
and  foreign  countries.  It  seems  to  be  Nature’s  Remedy  and  when 
used  direct  from  the  herb  it  is  more  effective,  and  has  greater  thera¬ 
peutic  virtue  than  in  any  other  form.  It  acts  almost  like  magic  in 
restoring  the  wasted  energies  of  the  system,  giving  tone  and  renewed 
vigor  to  the  system.  It  may  indeed  be  called  the  great 

ELIXIR  OF  LIFE! 

Thousands  of  persons  have  used  it  with  remarkable  success  in 

COUGHS, 

COLDS, 

CROUP, 

ASTHMA, 

CONSUMPTION, 

RHEUMATISM, 

DYSPEPSIA, 

LIVER  DISEASES, 

FEMALE  COMPLAINTS, 

SICK  HEADACHE, 

HEART  DISEASE, 

BRIGHT’S  DISEASE. 

For  Fever  and  Ague,  and  all  Malerial  diseases  it  is  more  powerful 
than  any  other  known  remedy. 

100,000  witnesses  affirm  it  is  "Nature's  Best  Gift  to  Man,”  some 


saying:  “It  saved  my  life”;  “Worth  its  weight  in  gold”;  “Have 
used  no  other  remedy  in  my  family  for  fifteen  years”;  “Since  using 
the  remedy  I  have  no  use  for  doctors."  And  one  man  said  it 
proved  to  be  worth  $1,000  to  him. 

The  same  Author,  one  day  while  out  driving  in  Southern  California 
with  a  gentleman  from  San  Jacinta,  had  his  attention  called  to  a  shrub 
that  was  extensively  used  by  the  Spanish  people  for  Hoarseness,  Asthma 
and  Pulmonary  complaints.  Further  investigation  and  trial  proved  that 
it  was  indeed  a  valuable  herb,  and  is  also  gathered,  prepared  and  sent 
out  by  mail  all  over  the  land. 

For  particulars  and  circulars  giving  definite  information  concerning 
the  above  alluded  'to  herbs  and  other  remedies,  some  of  which  are 
especially  adapted  for  the  cure  of  Diphtheria,  Catarrh,  etc.,  etc.. 

Address, 

PACIFIC  MEDICINE  COMPANY, 

ORDSBURG, 

Los  Angeles  County, 

California. 


DO  YOU  WANT  TO 

MAKE  MONEY  ? 

While  at  home  or  while  out  traveling? 

Address,  for  particulars, 

J.  S.  FLORY, 


LORDSBURG,  CAL. 


